Punishment Due
by Demon God of Chaos
Summary: This was spawned from the dark and twisted corridors of my mind. To my knowledge, this is the first Ranma/Punisher crossover. Soooo... Read it. Review it. Warning: Will contain rather gruesome deaths, as i will get creative.
1. Punisher

**Punishment Due**

Disclaimer : In no way am i in any way affiliated with Marvel or any other company, nor do i make money off writing this. This was only a plot that's been twisting inside my head, till it turned into something that's a bit realistically possible.

**

* * *

Punisher

* * *

**

He exited the airplane, his eyes going towards airport security, the taped bag within his hands holding only a few changes of clothing, along with his favorite black shirt. Anything he would need would have to be bought in Japan, because customs here seemed to be a lot tighter than in America. As he looked at the clock, hearing people speak in Japanese, he knew that there would be some problems.

He watched the people move around him, his hand unconsciously going towards the small pocketknife he'd bought moments before, the Yen being a strange currency, but who was he to complain. As an announcer spoke in Japanese, something about a flight to New Delhi, he figured that he would better go, lest he attract undue attention. His hands went into his pockets, moving in a semi-hurried pace while still keeping an eye out for people that would give him another look. It never hurt to be prepared.

Saotome Ranma was currently not amused. He stood there in front of the class, looking at a sentence in English, seemingly having to fumble for words, his teacher giving him the evil eye, as did his Fiance, well, one of the unwanted ones. He looked at the sentence again, stopping in the middle as if he tried to get a good grasp on the language. "The dog had ran away wi-wi-without it's ownah." "Saotome-kun, please try to get the vowel right. "The dog had ran away without it's owner, with an er sound instead of an ah. Still, you pass. Take your seat. Class, open your textbooks on page 125, we will be reading that story to the class, every student assigned a part!"

"Would you like some help with your English, Ran-chan?" The voice of his old friend and unwanted fiance Ukyou came to his ears, making him swallow as he could feel the ki from his irrate fiance beginning to build up, his gaze on the book before him instead of giving an answer to the girl, as he should. "Come on, i saw you had problems there, could you just let this cute fiance help then?" In truth, he wanted nothing more than to shout at her that it wasn't necessary, that he shouldn't need the extra lessons because he spoke it passably, but he knew that it would be best to seemingly remain ignorant of some things.

His hands clenched as he sat in the taxi, the driver trying to speak decent english, but failing badly, the gargle of his English being much like that he'd heard the Yakuza speak whenever he encountered them. There was no mistaking for style, however, as the man did try. "So you wished to go to Nerima, right?" He nodded again, his eyes staring out the window, watching girls with an indecent length of skirt go by, his heart clenching a little as he remembered his little girl, the scream she made when she died and the rest of them all seemingly dying. He rubbed his chin, an itch coming to him all of a sudden, as he took a deep breath to steady himself a little. It would be tough to see for himself, he knew that the one he was looking for would be able to help him out.

Ranma looked at the pool as he watched the rest of the class do their PE, while he jus5t sat on a bench, his daily regimen of training easily doing the same exercises for him. To him, it did not even matter if he had to do pushups or do basketball, there would be some crazy nut-job out there who'd do something with martial arts basketball to give him a challenge, which involved the next basketball meeting being one with him playing and utterly obliterating the competition. To him, it was not fun anymore, as they always seemed to come back to haunt him again.

His gaze wandered to the girls playing, his eyes going over their forms and he shook his head a little. The fact that he showed little attention to girls was not because he didn't have any idea just how to act around girls, it was because he himself turned into one prime specimen of femininity, with big breasts, wide hips and a red mane of hair which was exotic. To him, there was not a single girl here that was not better looking than he was. Miss Hinako could be beautiful, he supposed, but she shifted between a little girl and a sex-bomb, which was not too good when you thought about it.

"RANMA NO BAKA!" Something flew through the air towards him, his natural instinct to dodge kicking in, watching as the bench he sat on was almost hit by something that resembled a glowing hammer, his eyes going towards the one who'd called him an idiot, his eyes beholding his glowing fiance, who truly seemed to have an issue with trust if she kept on glaring murderously at him. "Hello Akane, what did I do?"

"You were leering at the girls, you perverted baka!" When the glowing ki construct made contact with his skin, her flowed with it, the kinetic force redirected towards the ground on which he stood, making him fly towards the pool, his initial trajectory being more or less against the school wall, his back meeting the water first, leading to the sensation of cold water enveloping him completely, to allow the change to take place.

He could feel how his breasts seemed to grow to a size that would undoubtedly stretch the silk shirt he wore, or rather, she wore now, how the boys would stare and Akane would undoubtedly accuse him of being up to something perverted again. The feeling of his wedding tackle shrinking and being replaced by something that felt a lot different, his insides shifting to accommodate the same change to female being a very different sensation. If he had not been trained as well to ignore some pains, he had no doubt that it would hurt. That no other person but a martial artist would have a Jusenkyo curse made it less obvious, but he figured that if Akane was doused with the spring of drowned boy water once, she'd be screaming in agony because of the changes. It would feel much like how he would feel when hot water hit him.

"Arigatou Gozaimasu." He grunted something back at the Japanese man, holstering the gun he'd bought illegally, the taxi driver having waited patiently for him, the man's eyes going towards the new accesory. "Guns no good against Nerimians! They will eat sir for breakfast!" A grunt came from the man's lips, as the driver ignited the engine again, the taxi speeding along the way towards the Nerima ward, the man's eyes on the people around them, waiting for any threat, as the dark shirt he wore blended in pretty well with the seats in the back of the taxi.

"Damn tomboy tossing me in the water all the time. See how she ,likes it, that no-good martial artist can't even swim that well." He pulled the shirt off to wring it out, the fact that his upper body, now with female attributes, was exposed making most men in the vicinity look at the jiggling orbs, before she wrang out the shirt, the irrate symbol of feminine vengeance stalking over to her with a white-hot aura around her which actually seemed to put the air around her ablaze, instead of being a merely cosmetical object. "Why are you wringing out your shirt here, you pervert!"

"Because I don't have any other choice, or give them a worse view of my tits, macho tomboy!"A punch was narrowly dodged, as he looked at his fiance, her features enraged, making him dodge another haymaker, her hand caught at the last moment, as he stopped wringing out his shirt and slipped it on again, the red fabric still being slightly damp and he shivered, the goosebumps on his flesh showing.

"Class is ending, you'd better go to the clothing rooms or you won't make it for the next class." Ranma said, Akane huffing a little as he released her fist, the next one hitting him only because he allowed it, the feeling of kinetic force impacting with his cheek, sending him back a few paces being almost a delight to him, as he watched the superiority on her face, the image in her mind that she really was a martial artist being a grand self-delusion.

To Martial Artists such as him, she would only be a speck on the radar, just one showing promise, but no drive, or goal to achieve. All that Akane had, was some brute strength, but none of the skills or the stances that he or the others of the merry little band that he'd collected had. He watched her leave, his hand going to his cheek as he stretched a little, cracking his back a bit to get the muscles active again.

Next class was Mathematics, which didn't really catch his attention in any way, as he didn't really feel up for it. Akane kept glaring at him, while Ukyo seemed to be curious about his rebuttal of Akane. The questions that were asked by the math teacher didn't really seem to stir him, even as the class laughed at his attempt to solve a math problem, which he sheepishly laughed about too. Math wasn't something you did in Martial Arts, so it didn't really catch his attention all that much, so he had to get another lecture by his teacher about the merits of pursuing education seriously, while Akane seemed to be doing just fine, the shine of pride on her face making him ready to wipe it off her face, with a broom if necessary.

"Saotome, you're late with payment this week." He heard Nabiki come before she spokew, turning to her briefly before she appeared, her hands resting on her hips, her eyes looking at him and visibly deriding him as just some jock who she could bully around. "Hehe, i'll have it soon for you Nabs." Here, the girl started to smile in that shark-like grin, which didn't really put him at ease anyway. "You wouldn't like Akane-chan to see those pictures of you and Shampoo, now would you? Perhaps I just accidentally let them fall where she can pick them up and you'll be in a world of trouble then."

"I'll get the money tomorrow, okay?" At that moment, she smiled victoriously, the memory of being used by her when he had been her fiance for just a week or so coming to mind, the burning anger at being used in that manner blossoming to the forefront of his mind. He could feel the old rage starting to well up again, memories of that time when he had been about nine still fresh in his mind.

It had been a day which he would never forget, the day in which his father had taken them to a bar in New York, a city they'd visited after stowing away between a load of sheep on a boat which ferried over the pacific ocean. Arguably, it was a beautiful city, but Genma neither had taken the time to learn the language, or to allow him to learn the language, instead relying upon broken English to make sure he got what he wanted.

Outwardly, Ranma did show not much of an indication that he had been trained in the Martial Arts, although his muscles were awfully defined for a nine year old. The men who'd been at the bar where Genma had drank himself into a stupor, had looked at him with eyes that made Ranma uncomfortable, eyes that he'd rather not see again, until one of them touched his upper arm, growling something in English which Ranma didn't understand. The hand then went down to his cheek caressing it for a moment, while he pulled away, frightened by the touch, knowing that these men didn't have the best of intentions, tugging on his father's sleeve to get the man to wake up.

That was the first time he'd realized that his father was not the man he proclaimed to be, as he awoke, looked at the men and paled, while one of the men said something in English, before repeating it. Genma's reply had been enough to put Ranma in a dazed state long enough, for one of the men to stick a needle in his upper arm. "Take the boy, take the boy, but please, don't hurt me!"

As his mind grew woozy, he knew that his father had betrayed him, again. The cat fist technique had been the first time where he'd seen that his father could not really be thought of as sane, but to hear that self-preservation speak, was the final straw that broke the camel's back and Ranma's trust within his father. His eyes shut themselves, his last thought being that his arm was being pulled at. He awoke at an undisclosed location, by someone poking him with something sharp.

He opened his eyes groggily, the drug still in his system, recognizing the speaker to speak in Japanese, which was familiar. "What is your name, kid?" He sat up, the poking object being apparently something with a sharp end, like a cane, his eyes going to the man's face as he asked again for his name. "Ranma." The man grinned, shouting something at the others around, who came to stand around the cage, looking him over and eventually getting a rod themselves and prodding him a little, making him squeak in discomfort. "Know what, Ranma? We're going to make you an adult, just you wait. Your father ran away as fast as possible after we persuaded him to give you to us, so don't you worry, you're in good hands."

What that entailed, Ranma soon found out as the cage was opened and he was roughly pulled out, placed on a bench with a woman in the room, who wore heavy make-up and seemed to be one of the people who'd brought him here, speaking something in English to the man who brought him here, her blonde hair being semi-long and put into a braid, not unlike the one he himself had. Then she spoke to him in English, her voice sounding strange, but the words he didn't really understand, until she went to the door and closed it, turning the lock and then smiling at him, while she seemed to whisper words of comfort, that he didn't quite get, before her hands seemed to reach out to him.

Her first touch was gentle, as she began to go over his chest with a feather's touch, before she gently tugged off the training gi he wore as his standard outfit, exposing his somewhat muscular frame, muttering something in English again as her head came close to him and he felt her kiss him on the cheek, small little kisses being placed on his cheek, going lower, down his neck and then on his upper chest, her kisses becoming more aggressive as time went by, her hands yanking his pants down without much resistance, his body still not recovered from the drug it had had, her hand slowly touching him down where, while she murmured something, something with the word man in it, while her hand continued to do those motions that didn't make him feel good.

When she was done, he could hear a commotion outside, hear shouts, dull thuds and other sounds that weren't day to day business he supposed, as the woman seemed to be in a daze, muttering some things, while getting some of her business together, her hands slowly stroking his body, while she seemed to be less concerned about him, her hand down there where her no-go area was, according to his father... or whatever he had said, he didn't really know for sure now. The woman went to kiss his cheek again, a little trail of tears running down his cheeks, the full realization that it was finally over reaching him, as he could feel the betrayal return, his father would not come for him, nor would this woman ever stop doing these things. His vocabulary in English had picked up, as he could guess the words she used for him, as her hands seemed to know instinctively where to touch to make him feel the most uncomfortable, as did her expression speak volumes when she exclaimed some things.

The door was kicked open and Ranma looked at the person which stood in the light, it reflecting off something he held within his hands, black hair framing his head, as he stared at the woman, whose hand had reached out to touch Ranma again. A moment later and a red dot appeared on the woman's forehead, Ranma looking at it with a surprised look on his face, her face betraying mild shock at the sudden appearance, shouting something Ranma translated as ruination and fun, along with something about a boy. The reply from the newcomer was only something Ranma later realized, the words spoken by that man becoming as vividly remembered as every training he ever had done. "To you, it was just innocent fun to sate your sick desires. To me, you are worse than the scum I faced ahead, human trafficers are high on my list. I am vengeance for those you hurt, I hunt your kind ceaselessly. I am Judge, Jury and Executioner. I sentence you and those like you, to death."

The woman tried to speak, but a sound like thunder erupted from the man, blood splattering all over the wall, Ranma looking at the man, who stepped further into the room, looking at him. "Come on kid, it's time for you to get out of here." Ranma didn't understand much of it, but he followed the man nonetheless, his dark outfit blending in well with the darkness, as he got the white gi on again.

"You don't know English then, kiddo? Well then, the police will be here soon, they'll take care of you." The man turned around, leaving the children there in an office which was remarkably clean of blood, Ranma noticing that there were children around his age, or even older than him present, all looking quite haunted. "Mister, if you ever need my help, I will help. I owe you, and I always make sure to repay my debts." He tried to formulate it in English, but his native Japanese formed some words he could not remember or form with his limited comprehension of the new language. The man looked at him for some time and patted him on the head. "I'm not sure what you meant, but if you feel you owe me something, that's not necessary. I fight to protect children like you from those yakuza and all I ask is that you study well." The door was busted in at that moment and the man hurried away, the office being left alone by his presence, but Ranma had seen his eyes for a moment, their surprising tenderness being belied with the violence that the man wreaked.

As police questioned them, the children giving accounts of what had happened, Ranma was somewhat shunted aside, a woman who seemingly came from the upper parts of Japan judging by her accent taking him aside to ask him just what had been done to him. In detail, Ranma recounted his experiences with the woman, the woman showing not much emotion on her face, albeit the hint of distaste could not be hidden from him, he knew people well enough now. "Do you have any parents?"

"My father is Saotome Genma, he was in Brent's Bar somewhere around here." The woman gently patted him on the head, in much the same manner that man had done, Ranma shivering and withdrawing a little, as the memories flashed back to him, the way that the woman had touched him coming to the front again. It would be five minutes later that an officer took him away, promising him something sweet to drink. He complied nonetheless, his mind feeling sluggish and tired from all the experiences.

His father picked him up two days later, once the names had been broadcast by the police department of the children, a great deal of children simply being orphans or otherwise not cared for. When he re-united with his father, he noticed a wanted poster with the man who had rescued him on it, a mugshot of him, with a shirt with a skull underneath it, with his name and assumed identity boldly written underneath it.

He vowed that he would find that man Castle to give him his thanks, vowing to learn English well, as they traveled through the country. A year was all it took for them to traverse the expanse of America, Ranma picking up the local speech, which was American English easily, as his brain was put to full use, the language becoming his own quickly, able to hold conversations in English while his father was not paying attention. They returned to New York, for his father to book a plane back to Japan, where they would make a quick stop before going to a supposedly famous dojo which taught some idiotic style, somewhere in Okinawa. Ranma had strong suspicions that Genma just wanted to relax within Okinawa instead of train, but he was not sure. With that man, everything could be truth, or be a complete lie.

"Speak, scum." The words were growled out, as the man stood in front of the gangster, holding a military grade rifle against the gangster's ribs. The flow of words which spewed forth from the gangster's mouth was much like the diarrhea one would get from eating too much chili, or from bad food, which ended mercifully with a bang, as the bullets perforated the lungs, the bloody gurgle that came from the gangster being the only indication that he didn't agree with his judgement. "Another scum dead."

"I've been searching for you, you know." The man looked at the child in the faded white gi that stood in the opening of the alley, the man's face showing momentary surprise. "I have learnt english pretty well to give you this message again. I owe you my freedom and my life, for that, you can ask me anything and I shall do it." His honor was one of the things he held precious to him, even as he bowed. "Stand up kid, what's your name?" Ranma rose, looking the man into the eyes, the vivid blue color of them being somewhat stunning within the low lighting. "Ranma Saotome, or in my native language, Saotome Ranma, but call me Ranma. I am not quite smitten with my father's actions because he abandoned me to those people." To say that he was not quite smitten was more or less a lessening of the sentence, as he looked at the man who'd freed him, whose lips seemed to curl into a humourless smile. "Whenever I'm next in Japan, I'll visit you if I have need of a translator, is that okay? Crime is expanding like a wave from this country and perhaps, I will visit Japan to put an end to the yakuza there."

"Very well, I promise on my honor to help you in every way you need, should you visit me while I am in Japan."With that, Ranma walked away, the older man standing there for a moment before loading his rifle again, walking off into the darkness once again, the skull on the front of his outfit standing out as a stray beam of light hit it, the armor underneath it showing a little. "Kid has guts, that's for sure."

Ranma was pulled to the present again when he found himself being called, one of his classmates asking him something, pulling himself back from the memory to look at the youth. "Yeah? Sorry, I was dozing a bit." "Want to go to the arcade, see whether we can find some fine girls?" he shook his head at that, knowing that wherever he went, trouble would inevitably follow. He dismissed further conversation from his mind as he packed his bag, about to wait for the bell to ring that signalled the end of class, then go to the Tendo house to train a little bit, unless little miss martial arts decided to interrupt again. "Ranma!" He shrugged to himself more than anyone else as he looked at his fiance, the look on her face looking apprehensive. "Is everything alright with you?" He nodded out of habit, evading her eyes as he tried to think up a good escape plan. This wouldn't end well for him if she started on her usual suspicious routine.

"See if I care, you jerk." She slugged him in the gut, her brute force making him double over momentarily, his mouth expelling a sufficient amount of air to sound like he'd gotten the air blown out of his lungs. In truth, he'd tensed his stomach muscles, acting only to be hit hard by her unexpected punch. He looked at her, sighing deeply as she marched off, bag in hand, seemingly not concerned for his health anymore.

As he neared the school gate, he watched a taxi stop up ahead, the driver recognizing him somehow, the look of fear on his face clearly being an indication that they'd met before or something. It was rare to see a taxi in Nerima though, as things usually got pretty messed up around here. The door on the side opened and someone stepped out, Ranma's eyebrows shooting up as he recognized the man immediately.

"Long time no see, kid." The voice was a bit deeper than he'd remembered, somehow having more age behind it, but to all extents, the same underlying feelings of barely suppressed hate towards the Yakuza and their ilk being there. Ranma looked at the taxi driver, who seemed to be interested in what the young 'God of Nerima Martial Arts' had to say to the Gaijin, although a look from Ranma clearly told the man that he'd better make himself scarce. The taxi driver complied almost immediately, driving off with a cloud of exhaust fumes, not giving the school or the martial artist another glance. "Hello there, Castle-san. You intend to collect on the debt I owe you?"

"Yeah. You can act as a translator, while I kill the Yaks. Deal?" Here, Ranma closed his eyes for a moment, envisioning the carnage that the man would wreak. The fact that he had been rumored to attack any crimilan organization around had been a very fast-spreading one, so if this was truly the man known as the Punisher, there'd be blood and vengeance…

"Only, if I can join in too. I will not let others have the same thing done to them, as was done to me." That was the moment, in which Frank Castle and Ranma Saotome teamed up. The criminal world, would soon be knowing another Punisher, one with more brutal methods of operating.

* * *

Well, I hope you liked this. It was just to test out whether I still got it in me to write so I hope that this will be decently reviewed. Mind you, this is just a test thingy, I'm 60% certain about to write another chapter, if people respond favorably. So don't hold back and just give me a few reviews, telling me what you thought of it. Ranma and the Punisher are both unenhanced individuals within an universe that seems to be populated with all kinds of magical stuff, so I thought it to be fun to match them up, see what can be done with them. Also, I want your thoughts on Ranma's… origin, of sorts.

Cheerio!


	2. Yakuza, meet the Punishers

**Punishment Due**

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, Don't worry.

**

* * *

Yakuza meet the Punishers, Punishers meet fodder

* * *

**

Ranma looked out over the night skies above Nerima, his hand reaching for the shirt he had gotten from Frank, his face grim as he looked at the half-full moon in the sky, the actions he would have to do tonight would not be reflected kindly upon. But he knew that for his honor, he must fight against organized crime to give them a true feeling of terror. His honor had been besmirched when they had taken him those years ago, done something horrible, which he understood a few years later, his innocence having been taken from him not only in that instance, there'd been also a sense of vengeance that had risen from his core to take a hold of his soul.

As he looked at the metal of the katana within his hands, he knew that he would have to be careful with the blade, as it's blade had been sharpened recently. It was just a cheaply manufactured one, one usually used for ceremonial things, not really designed to cut through live flesh. But Ranma knew that in his hands, flesh would be the first thing to get cut. His hand ran over the blade, a small droplet of blood dripping down the steel as he felt a sting of pain at the cut flesh.

"Time to move." He said as he pulled on the shirt over his naked torso, the fabric stretching well over his developed chest, the skull with extra armor padding improvised by Frank looking pretty nifty, even if Ranma didn't have that well advanced a sense for fashion. He took a last look at the Tendo house, his grudging admission that Nabiki did indeed seem to be out, which could be a different factor, provided she was in cahoots with the yakuza… which would quite likely end in her death, should she be at the place they intended to visit tonight.

"Hey kid, how is the shirt?" A gun was tossed at him, Ranma catching it deftly, watching at the M16 in the man's hands, along with the grenades which hung from straps on his Kevlar armor plated chest. "You'll be hanging around in the back, giving me cover from any martial artist weirdoes that try to intervene with us. You will also tell me what they are saying, until we are discovered and I let the disguise slip, okay?" Ranma said without hesitation in his voice. "Yes, Castle-san."

"Let's go then." The older man grunted, walking in a brisk military pace, Ranma keeping up almost effortlessly, as the man seemed to be possessed by something else, his whole being shifting slightly to resemble a predator on the prowl, with Yakuza as his prey. Ranma sympathized with the man known to the world at large as The Punisher, the man's eyes being so filled with determination, yet also with unfathomable sadness. To fight against evildoers, to expect nothing in return but their extinguished life, was that not something honorable?

"The Yaks won't expect us to come in from above." A rappelling rope was hung from the roof of one of the buildings adjacent to the construction yard they were currently spying at. Frank's hands held a small binoculars, military issue, as he scanned the surroundings, the man's keen mind already beginning to formulate an attack plan. Slowly, that plan worked itself into an assault plan, which would most likely be correct, his previous experience teaching him about how humans reacted in times of stress. "Ready?" The nod was terse, the ex-marine already swinging down, Ranma following close by, as the window was lifted from it's bolts, Ranma following Frank inside. People speaking and shouting mixed together, Ranma picking up several different dialects altogether, although he couldn't really distinguish between any of them. "Those over there, what are they saying?"

Ranma's gaze was pulled to a fat bald man who seemed to be dealing cards to several other members of the Yakuza, apparently glad with his role as the dealer, as the rest of the shady men seemed to be in a state of constant agitation, the man's lips forming some words, which translated themselves into sounds and words and sentences in his brain. "The shipment's due in three hours, it won't do us no good to get stressed about it. Let's play."

"They are expecting a shipment in three hours along with having a bit of a recreational moment." Ranma parroted to Frank, whose face set in an angry mode, his eyes going to the fat bastard out there. "You want to make yourself useful? Go down there, bash some head, I'll deal with the rest of the mooks."

Ranma's feet touched the ground lightly, almost like a feather falling down. Without wasting any movement, he moved towards the fat man and his group, his dark colored clothing not giving away a single detail about who he was. Moments later he had reached the group of Yakuza, the fat baldie looking at him standing there. "You're not with our crew. Are you from Okinawa?" Ranma shook his head, looking to the shadows where Frank had been moments ago, until something seemed to ricochet off the wall beside him, Ranma's eyes noticing a canister or something equally small, hitting the wall and then looking ready to blow.

A thunderous sound reached his ears and almost made the eardrums burst, his body thrown on the ground by instinct, the feeling of something sailing over him making him quite aware that the yakuza had been caught unprepared. The fat body of the fat man rested against the wall, his left side clearly blown off by the explosion of the hand grenade, his fat stopping most of the blast but still the damage would have been severe enough to put him out of action forever. Ranma shivered a little as he looked at the body, the dead eyes somehow catching his eye, a shiver going through his body as he looked at the fat that had seemingly melted. He would never ever get so fat like that man, or he'd kill himself. Being fat was only a hindrance in his eyes.

"See what's happening! Kenji! Toji! Find out what happened to Kensuke!" A shouting voice was heard, Ranma jumping into the air, onto one of the packing crates in the warehouse, watching as Yakuza streamed inside, looking for the commotion. "Shit, Kensuke's dead man. Shit shit shit!" Ranma did not need much more time to formulate a next plan of action, as gunfire spewed forth from one of the corners of the room, Frank appearing a pair of Uzis blazing within his hands, his eyes full of murder as he began to kill the Yakuza who had come. Soon enough, more joined, bullets flying through the air and hitting mostly nothing, while the Punisher pulled his M16 from his back, firing a short burst into the closest torso, the gurgling of blood and the breathing quickly being cut off signaling that there was no more life present within the body. A shadow streaked from the shadows, appearing behind the punisher, a glint of a knife visible within it's hands.

Ranma moved like the wind, one moment being hidden, while in the next, the knife seemed to bury itself into his chest, the feeling of his muscles being sliced by the steel, his hands clenching around the neck of the person who'd tried to stab his savior. The face of the person was revealed by a stray ray of light, as Frank Castle continued with his mission, laying suppressive fire upon the Yakuza, more of them pouring in as they heard the fighting and the gunshots.

Ranma looked at the face, the snarl on the young guy's face making it more ugly than it should be, a flex of his muscles and he could feel the blade being wrung out of the wound, the blade bouncing back a little, even as he placed his hands on the guy's throat, pushing them towards each other, the choking sounds being almost like music to his ears as he crushed the young man's throat, rippig off the head in a display of saage brutality, tossing it at the Yakuza before whirling into action. His body moved with a speed that seemed to be abnormal, his body just seemingly gaining a burst of speed, his lungs seeming to fill with more air and his whole strength seemingly skyrocketing, as he grabbed a container with both hands and then tossed it at the Yakuza, the screams that came before the squishing sound making him feel appeased within his vengeance. He looked at Frank, looking at the man's face for a small hint of approval, a thin smile having made its way on his face. "You did well kid." Ranma nodded, blood still splattered over his face from where he'd tugged off the head of the crook, the Punisher and his young apprentice, of sorts, making their way through the building, the Yakuza offering heavy resistance, which was headed off pretty well by Ranma and the Punisher.

As he ducked underneath an overhead strike, twisting his body in such an angle that he would be able to deliver a shattering chest strike, he looked at Frank, who handled the non-martial artists, the bullets traded between them being likely more than enough to be turned in as scrap metal in a junkshop. His hand shot out, twisting flesh and sinew aside, the ribs shattering upon impact, as he looked at the agonized face, little care being summoned up for the man. "You're fighting like a bunch of pussies, is there no man here who can face me?"

His hand plucked a throwing knife from the air, returning it to sender immediately with a deft flick of the hand, his eyes going towards some more goons, moving with preternatural speed as they opened fire upon him. Even then, it still wasn;'t enough, as a bullet grazed his left side, his hand going towards the entry wound and feeling that the skin was bleeding there, the black shirt doing a good job at hiding it, but he did not stop, instead grabbing his Katana from his side, the imitation blade being no-where as sharp as a real blade, but it would do the trick, as he wielded it, the tip shved inbetween the man's ribs, the gurgle that came forth as the pointy end stuck out of the man's back being a good indicator that death would soon follow. With a tug, he pulled the blade free, only to have a bullet almost end his life, the shot landing in his chest, the Kevlar that he wore being able to stop it just enough to make it be prevented from taking him out in a more permanent fashion, another shot being fired, until someone seemed to blow apart the gunman's head, the Punisher appearing beside him, looking at his wounds. "I can still take some out." The Punisher shook his head, his eyes looking for any survivors. "We should move. There are more ahead."

Ranma complied, gunfire being heard, with Frank sliding over the ground to cover, Ranma's body throwing itself to the side, as bullets flew through the air at high speeds. He assessed the situation again, the blood that he was losing from his wounds making him feel as if he'd just taken a good swim into a channel or something, his head feeling all woozy. Hushed voices spoke, Ranma hearing something about a possible plan to make sure of something, before gunfire resounded and Frank appeared, smoking gun in hand. "You're injured, right? Get up." Ranma got up slowly, his hand searching for solid grip on the ground, not finding any for the time being, his hand slipping a little as his vision got all blurry.

Frank Castle was a man of patience and one with a strict discipline. As soon as he noticed Ranma going out cold, he leapt to action, grabbing the teenager in a manner which he'd be able to drag the body away without disadvantaging him. Blood ran down Ranma's arm, the memories of that fateful day coming back to him, for a few moments.

The screams of his children, as they were mercilessly gunned down by the Mafia gunmen, how his wife had screamed for him, only to be silenced with gunfire. He remembered feeling a few bullets penetrate his body and exit through the other side of his body, none in vulnerable parts, but it still served enough to make sure that he had reminders.

"Got to find a vehicle to get us back to the hotel." He grunted as he dragged Ranma's body out of the Yakuza den, the bloody trail he left behind being somewhat distinguishing, a grunt being the only reaction he got. He looked around for a suitable transport, cursing himself momentarily for not having gotten a rental car. Spotting a car at the end of the lane, he began to advance towards it, the keys luckily being within the ignition still. A moment later and the sound of breaking glass was heard, as Frank grimaced, his knuckles feeling somewhat sore right now. His hands slowly pushed the button to open the door, slipping behind the steering wheel as he placed Ranma on the seat next to him. "Freeze, fucker. You killed the rest, didn't you?" The Japanese wasn't something he knew very well, but from his intention, along with the feeling of apprehension… it wasn't a very pleasant feeling. His head turned, the click of a gun being readied to fire making him freeze, the rearview mirror giving him a good view of the Japanese man's face, which was almost rat like in appearance. "I think not, bakayaro!" Ranma's voice sounded, along with a sound like some fruit being squashed, a keening wail being heard, as the Yakuza screamed at his balls being crushed like overripe grapes. His hand shot up, opening the filling and the body, as Ranma worked a hidden technique of the lethal style he'd learnt, his hand cutting through flesh and bone easily, the heart now clenched within Ranma's hand, beating quickly, as fear shot through the man's body like a flame in a petrol spill.

"Time to die." Ranma muttered, crushing the crook's heart with a simple twitch of his hands, the life fading from the man's face, his hand moving for one last shot, the gun's trigger being almost pulled until the gun fell from almost boneless hands. "Thanks kid. That's the second time you saved me today." Ranma felt so sleepy, that he only moaned something unintelligible, his head falling as his body put him to sleep, his body having the damage catch up to it.

"Guess you and I will spend more of the day together, kiddo." Frank muttered as he drove away from the warehouse, the blood that splattered the rear view window giving it a rather nice touch of his own brand of decoration. There were benefits to the job, this was just one of them, he supposed. The hotel he had picked was a cheap one, they didn't ask any questions as he hoisted Ranma's unconscious body inside, one of the receptionists seemingly giving a good luck or something, he didn't really know Japanese, so it could be excused. He put Ranma on the bed, placing a glass of water on the bedside table, while moving to his bag immediately to pull forth a few first-aid things, small things he'd learnt during his tour of Vietnam. He looked at the kid, his eyes growing misty for a moment, as he could feel the blood loss from a cut, though not looking as severe as Ranma's body had been injured. He used a rag to clean away the blood, revealing the wounds sustained to him, his teeth being gritted as he looked at the wounds, before getting a needle and thread and beginning to sew the wounds shut.

_Punisher's War Journal, 8 June 19XX Entry five._

_Ran into the kid today, together we hit some Yaks without too much problems. Guess we're going to have to take out another cell, if he recovers. He's lost some blood, but he's a tough kid, I knew that immediately when I saw him. Think some extra firearms training would be nice for the kid, give him an edge, over his martial skills. _

_Wondering about why the Yaks seemed to be interested in a coke shipment, as it doesn't seem likely that they'll distribute it, superstitious lot. The kid seemed to have warmed to killing, if his first kill of the day was any indication. Pity he's wounded bad tho, I really wonder sometimes, if we hadn't met, what'd become of him. Other noteworthy addition: Changes into female, wounds close during the transformation. Will ask him about it, when he awakes next. This may be some technique I can learn. Never really wanted to be female tho, but I don't think it'd matter much. A body's a body, a gun's a gun, criminals are criminals, that's what it is._

_Kid seems to be ready to wake up now, will get the smelling salts ready for it, he'll need to do some explanation here._

Ranma slowly came to, as a nagging pain in the shoulder made him significantly more awake than the smell he'd just had shoved up the nostrils. His eyes pricked a little, as he looked at Frank, whose face seemed to be anxious. "You're female, explain." Ranma nodded, looking around for some hot water, the surroundings mattering not, because he was with Frank and then, it would likely be a safe location. "It's a magical curse, that makes it so that I change from male to female with cold water, while hot water reverses the transformation. It's quite useful, considering that I know some people who change into animals, females still being human enough to use martial arts."

Frank nodded, accepting the reasoning behind that, his mind beginning to think about a possible trip to wherever Ranma got the curse to pick one up for himself. It would be useful in getting rid of combat wounds immediately with just a dash of hot and cold water. "Think you're able to give me a hint to the location?"

Ranma shivered a little as he saw the calculating look in Frank's eyes, the thought going through him that Frank would actually be crazy enough to go and get himself cursed to have another weapon against organized crime. "I'm sorry, but i can't give the location away, I won't lure a friend into that deathtrap." The Punisher nodded, looking at the young man and understanding his motives. "You're worried that i get turned into a helpless animal, right?" Ranma nodded, the Punisher giving him a terse nod. "Guess that'd make me beef then. Guess i'd best steer clear of them then."

"You don't want to go to those springs of sorrow, it'll only mess your life up as bad as it does to mine. What time is it?" Here, Frank pulled from his coat a watch, looking at it and then frowning a little. "Says it's two in the afternoon, but that's not right. Time difference, I suppose, maybe hit with a stray bullet or something. It was about three when I checked in, you've been out for about two hours or something, so it's about five in the morning." The Japanese youth frowned, rubbing his back a bit, as he got a cup of warm water from the bathroom, the hot water restoring him back to his male form, stretching his body a bit to try and make sure he got back into fighting form.

"You think we hit them hard enough?" Frank shook his head, his hand gliding to the Beretta on his side, looking at the weapon and checking it, out of habit. "You going back?" Frank shook his head, looking at the sights of the Beretta and aiming, before putting it back in the holster. His hands clenched tightly for a moment as he took stock of the ammunition within the room, moving his attention back to Ranma again.

"You've got school to go to soon, Kid?" The question was not unexpected, Ranma nodding. "Let's grab a burger or whatever is suitable in this country and get you to school. Consider it thanks for helping out tonight with the Yaks." Surprise could be seen on Ranma's face, as he looked at Frank, who seemed to be searching for his wallet. "I believe there's a Macdonalds on Toshi Street that's still open. We could go there easily, if we used the roofs."

"Lead the way kid." Frank said as they stood on the roof, Ranma looking at him, before offering a hand. "Trust me, I'll carry you there. It takes some acrobatics I'm not sure your spine would like."Trusting Ranma to that extent took a moment, but Frank Castle surrendered to fate. It didn't seem like the kid was a Yak plant, or he'd have been offed the moment they'd spoken. Ranma grabbed him in a bridal carry style, before taking the first leap, the wind blowing in their backs, as Ranma began to leap from rooftop to rooftop, the lights of the street being still lit, dawn approaching rapidly.

"I'd like a burger with some coffee, if that's okay. Want to order for yourself, kid?" Ranma nodded, cracking his fingers a little. "A burger and some water, please." Their order was noted down and they took a seat on one of the chairs that stood near a table, Frank looking at his young friend for a moment, momentarily reminded about his family as the innocent but yet wizened blue eyes stared at him, much like his own set.

"A vanilla milkshake and some soda, please!" A chipper female voice came to Ranma's ears and he tensed, waiting for the inevitable roar of some wall collapsing, glass shattering or cries of rage or love to be heard. He looked at the clerk, who rang it all up and smiled at the sweet little girl as she took a seat on a chair, the yellow dress that she wore being several sizes too big for her. "Crap."

The Punisher's eyebrow rose a little, even as he watched their order be put on the table by the clerk, business being slow apparently at this early hour, looking at Ranma for an explanation. "The little girl, who is she?" The English he spoke drew the little girl's attention, which seemed to make her appear at their table in no time, Ranma brushing his hair in a way that he wouldn't be recognized as such. "You're American? Cool, cool, can I speak with you?"

"Hey there little girl, your English is good for belonging to an Asian country. Come, take a seat while me and the kid wait for our burgers." The little girl smiled brightly and shoved a chair up to the table, taking a seat. "Yep, I'm an English Teacher in Furinkan High School! My name is Hinako Ninomiya, pleased to meet you, Mister?"

"Frank Castle." He didn't buy it for one bit, the girl looking no older than his daughter, her face showing some small excitement at meeting him, so he tolerated her curiosity. "Well, I hope that there's some-" The door slammed open and a man walked inside, crossing the space between him and the registry, snatching Hinako by the scruff of her dress, pulling her up, black metal seem within his hand, as a loud bang was heard through the room. "THIS IS A ROBBERY! GIVE ME ALL OF THE MONEY AND THE LITTLE MISS DOESN'T GET HURT!"

"What's he saying?" Frank pressed, watching how the robber pulled Hinako with him, Ranma's face growing more and more solemn by the moment. "That he's robbing the place and going to kill her if people don't fork over their cash." "You, the Gaijin, hands where I can see them!" Frank watched as the gun placed itself against Hinako's head, a flashback to his daughter's lifeless face.

"We just came for a burger man, can't you leave the girl alone? She's just a kid, man!" Ranma tried to play the average everyday kid, the robber looking at him and spitting at him. "You're sitting at a table with a Gaijin, speaking the same dirty language as him! You should have pride within your family, your heritage, or are you Burakamin?"

The question made Ranma look at the robber, before closing his eyes. His mouth tightened, as he opened them again, his determined gaze falling on the robber. "I'm going to kill the girl man! Hands in the air where I can see them!"

"Here's the money! Please let the girl go!" The clerk handed a bag, filled with notes, the crispness of them being heard by Ranma, the robber looking at the clerk like he'd been handed his christmas present early, the gun moving away from Hinako's head and aiming itself at the clerk's.

_He's going to shoot her! Got to do something_! Ranma's body acted out of instinct, his hands moving on their own volition, as he _moved._

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

The sounds thundered in his ears, as he watched the robber's forehead receive another ventilation hole, another bullet going into the chin, making a large flesh wound, another clipping off an ear, while one seemed to lodge itself into the man's throat, at least making sure that there'd be a serious breathing problem later on, while the last bullet seemed to hit the forehead again, the blood that splattered from the wounds splattering onto the ground. The body let go of it's hostage, Frank rising immediately as he put a hand onto Ranma's arm, which still held the gun in a firing position, the Beretta being lowered.

"Good shot kid." Frank growled, looking at the growing pool of blood that formed onto the floor, looking at the clerk, who had froze at the sudden shooting. "Tell her that it's not worth calling the police till we're gone. I'm still wanted in some countries and I'd like to prevent going to jail here." Ranma nodded, regaining his senses and putting the Beretta back where it belonged, in it's holster on Frank's body. "Miss? Do you think you could hold off on calling the police till we're done with eating?"

The clerk looked with wide eyes at Ranma, then at the body, her lower lip quivering a little, her body shaking a little, as she swallowed, looking at Ranma again and then nodded. "Okay, i'll hold off on calling the police, but I'm not sure what my boss would do." Ranma gave her his most friendly smile, the one that usually got him some extra scoops of ice-cream if he was in female form, to charm the men manning the ice-cream counter and it worked. "Thank you. Now, could we have our orders?"

The clerk nodded once more, looking at the body one last time, before moving on autopilot, bringing their orders within moments, looking at Ranma with a concerned glance. Ranma himself gave his best smile, even though he didn't feel so stable in the head again. The body was rapidly cooling, the smell of blood entering his nostrils. "You killed a man." Hinako's voice spoke, full of awe and shock, Ranma nodding. "He was a criminal. I delivered him to an earlier grave." Came Ranma's reply, Hinako looking at the milkshake put in front of her, the food seeming a bit more unappetizing, while Ranma unwrapped the hamburger and dug in, a good bite from the burger disappearing within a flash.

"Guys like that are never worth much to society." Frank spoke, the ketchup making a streak of red drip down his chin, which was wiped away quickly by the hand of the man, the clerk looking unsure as to what to do at the moment. "Yasuko! What was all that racket?" The door opened and a fat balding man in his forties came out, looking around for the clerk, who seemed to be shivering a little. "Just a robber, store manager. It's been dealt with." The man snorted, unbelieving. "You're high again, aren't you Yasuko? I told you not to start with the drugs again, or it'll be harder to keep you around."

"The body lies in front of our table, if you'd like to have a look." Ranma said, before finishing the rest of his burger, the water he'd ordered with it being downed in one long gulp. "Oh my god, Yasuko, why didn't you use the alarm? Shit, now we've got a dead body to worry about and two people who've just killed someone."

"Toshimato-san, they're good people, they just want to finish eating and leave, right?" Ranma nodded, focusing his gaze back on the table, not saying anything else, Hinako slurping the milkshake down, her hand quivering a little and Frank remaining perfectly still, drinking his coffee after a moment. "I'll give them five minutes before I call the police. With all those martial artists asleep at this time and hour, they should be here within ten minutes. Kid, you got a name?"

"The Punisher." Ranma muttered, the words slipping from his lips, as he didn't want his real name to get out and the fact he was dressed differently would make people not realize he was the premiere martial artist of Nerima. "Sure, sure, when you're done, get the hell out of here. Thanks for doing the establishment a favor, but you're not wanted here anymore." Ranma nodded, watching Hinako finish her food, looking at Frank, who got up and left some bills on the table. "That should be enough to pay for the food and the expenses." Ranma nodded, getting up too. "Ninomiya-san, we have to go now, perhaps I'll see you around."

They started walking, away from the Mcdonalds, the sound of their footsteps being loud to her ears, as she looked at the young man who'd saved her from that robber. The sound of police sirens came closer and she took a step towards them, the look on the older man's face being one of grim realization, one she'd seen more on people who had been through a lot of hardship in their life. "I want to see that young man again." she said to herself, as she started walking after them, her hands clenched. "I've got to do something to repay him for his actions."

"I killed a man again." Ranma said, looking down at the ground, as he walked towards the school with Frank, the older man shrugging, before giving a disapproving sound. "He tried to use the little girl as a hostage. I'd have dealt with him, if you hadn't. He was just as bad as the criminal scum that took you when you were younger." Ranma's face steeled itself, as he looked up at Frank, his face betraying a nearly psychotic look. "I LIKED killing that man. I LIKED making him show up at Kami-sama's door and be judged! Is that how I should feel, happy about ending another life?" Here, Frank shook his head, looking at Ranma with eyes that seemed to be colder than the arctic regions he'd visited once with his father. "They deserve to die for what they did to us. Kid, if you want to join me in my war, you're free to. But consider that it won't be a pretty war, and that people can die. You're not obligated to join, know that." Ranma shuddered a little as he took a deep breath, weighing the alternatives.

He could stay here, be surrounded by his enemies, getting killed or mutilated or even worse, married. Then there was the offer of helping Frank in his war against crime, which would net him death, but a lot more freedom. The latter choice was showing a good deal more promise than before, the actions of his relatives and friends being enough to set his decision on things clear.

"I'll join you, gladly even. Life here, is nothing to envy, but with you, I have a lot more freedom." Frank nodded, looking at the teenager and patting him on the back. "You are sixteen, right?" Ranma nodded, Frank looking at the school. "You're going to school in New York then, if you decide to really go through with this." Ranma looked up, surprised by the turn of events. "Eh? Why?" Frank smiled, remembering about the talks he'd had with his late wife. "Because kids like you should go to school, not be caught up too much in old men games."

"So, America, right?" Ranma muttered, thinking it over for a moment. Frank looked at the young martial artist, his hand quivering a little as he saw the brain-mass be moved, to contemplate his offer. He watched it for a good while, while the teenager seemed lost in thought, his hand going to the Beretta, before thinking differently and going for his knife. His hand seemed to stay there for a moment, before rising once more. "Kid, you there?"

Ranma nodded, looking up from his downward gazing at the pavement. "Yes." "The kid's followed us." He followed Frank's gaze, to see Hinako walking towards them, her steps hesitantly. "You saved me." was all she said, as she bowed before Ranma, who sheepishly scratched the back of his head, giving Frank a helpless look. The man shrugged. "Some things you got to figure out on your own kiddo."

"Hinako-sensei, why don't you get ready for class now, you're going to give us a test, right?" he asked, looking at her. The switch to Japanese, along with the familiar accent seemed to nag on her memory, her face puzzled as to where she'd heard the voice before. "I know you! Your voice is similar to one of the delinquent boys in my class. But you can't be him, because his English is one of the worst in the grade."

"I'm afraid I may have been playing down my level in English, Hinako-sensei." He said in English, her eyes lighting up a little, as she grabbed a yen coin and held it up to face towards him, a drain of his energy being felt, his eyes closing for a moment, as he felt so tired. "Well, I am grateful you decided to save me."

Seeing a little kid go to babe was a bit shocking to Frank, who muttered something to himself about another mutant, his hand lowering from his KA-BAR, his eyes surveying the surroundings, looking at Hinako again and assessing her threat level, which wasn't high at all, if he looked at her muscle tone and other signals that her body gave off.

"No problem, sensei. I may not really show much love for learning, but there's the fact that I don't really have any rest while with the Tendo's." Hinako nodded, looking at him and sighing a little. "The man next to you, who is he? You seem close."

"Frank Castle, ma'am." He extended his hand towards her, which she took, looking him in the eyes for a moment, her face looking serious at him, as she gauged his worth and then judged him worthy, her hand shaking his firmly. "Pleased to meet you. What are you, to my student?"

"He's the father who came for me when I was in need, the man who showed me a speck of light within the darkness." Ranma said, before Frank could speak, the older man's mouth clacking shut, Hinako turning around to Ranma, her eyes going towards his hands, who had clenched together. "He's more of a father than mine ever was. He made sure the woman died, blasted apart her head with his gun, then took me away. " Here, he looked at frank, who nodded. "I was hitting the Yakuza in north Chinatown, where they'd stashed some drugs from the Triad, there were also some kids there and kiddo over there, was one of them."

"You can call me Ranma, that'd be more fitting." Ranma muttered, kicking the air in front of him, a small snap of his leg being heard, along with a gritting of teeth. "Must've been a bit out of practice, damn it." He rubbed the sore spot, looking at the flesh being bruised and tender, growling softly as he pressed it.

"Ki-, no, Ranma, you'd better get that checked out. I'm going back to the hotel, I figure you and that sense-girl can work things out." He turned around, Ranma and Hinako being left behind. "It's sensei, not sense-girl. It's the Japanese word for teacher!" He didn't really hear her voice, as he began to compile a list of things he would have to arrange for Ranma to come with him to the US of A, which would be quite the challenge, as money would have to be scavenged, although he did have a nice amount on his bank account, it might not be enough.

_Better hit a Yakuza stronghold then, there's bound to be money there._

And so, the Punisher went to plan his next assault on organized crime, knowing that this time, he'd be bringing a possible apprentice with him back to the States.

May the kami have mercy on the Yakuza, for Frank Castle would have none.

* * *

Well, this concludes this update, I suppose. Two chapters at once, gives you all a bit to read, get a feel for the story and such, and give me many reviews ^^

Well, the Punisher is a fascinating character, and since Ranma hadn't been crossed with that, I got the idea to make it so. The chapters were written at different times, so the author's notes aren't that consistent.

I'm also looking for a beta reader, as I've recently decided that I'd spend more time on fanfiction than I've done in this yeah, so yeah… Be ready for this ^^


	3. Threads of Fear

**Punishment Due**

Disclaimer: I do not own the series crossed over here, nor will i claim i do, because that would be fraudulent. Other than that, I can safely say, that I will mostly stick to the Punisher's comic line and not go into the deeper aspects of the Marvel world, aka, cross it over with multiple series till it's so blatantly overpowered that it seems to be like a god-mode Ranma, which is not my intention. For all intents, Ranma still is a normal average 'for an exceptionally well trained martial artist' young man. No super powers, except perhaps determination and perhaps having the healing thing with his curse, which is more or less a mass conversion, which seems pretty convincing, if one believes in magic. Ranma's got to grow breasts somehow, and I think that his body is in flux at that moment, moulding itself to a primal shape, then changing. Anyway, on with the story now.

**

* * *

Threads of fear

* * *

**

_Punisher's War Journal, 8__th__ of June 19XX_

_Kid and I went to McD, got ourselves a burger. Some kid tried to rob the place, Kid put a few bullets into his brain for trying to take his teacher hostage, who was in the shape of a little kid herself. Heh, got to admit I'm surprised. Didn't know little kids could become babes overnight, guess they upped the steroids or something. Got to find out where the Yaks are hiding their money, or it won't get the kid with me back to the States. Guess I'll have to squeeze it out of one of em, if they're willing, but I don't speak Japanese. _

_Guess I better make them learn English fast then._

He leaned back in his chair, watching Hinako-sensei make some simple sentences in English on the board. "Translate these into proper Japanese on the form in front of you, then write your name on the paper and hand it in." She said, her proper voice making him have a flashback to when his mother had come to visit, chiding Ranko on her unfeminine voice. He looked at the sentences and quickly wrote them down, his hands quivering a little as he began, the shaking stopping as soon as he put the pen to the paper.

"I'm done." He said putting the paper on the table, where Hinako looked it over. The clock showed that it was six in the morning, Hinako giving a small nod of contentment as she began to grade the test, her red marker being almost unused. "Some more punctuation could be better, but all in all, you've done well enough to earn a passing grade for English for this year. As English-speakers speak the language and need to know the language, better than us, we do not have high standards to meet but I am proud of you nonetheless." She bowed formally to him, before smiling. "See, with a little application of your brains, you can do a great deal. I knew you weren't incapable of English." She flashed him a smile, glad to see him apply himself. "Now, your oral exam."

"Eh? Hinako-sensei, I have four fiancé's, I can't… We can't? Here?" She giggled a little seeing him flustered the discomfort within his eyes. "I meant assessing your speaking prowess, Saotome-kun." He brightened, a sheepish smile appearing on his face. "Okay, here ya go teach." She found it hard to connect this young one with the man who'd saved her, the one who'd seemingly killed without hesitation.

"Okay, let's start shall we?" She said, her voice calm and collected. "Hello there Sir, how are you?" Ranma looked at her for a moment, before trying to come up with the right words. He didn't use formal English a lot. "I am fine, how are you, Sensei?" She shook her head, waving her finger in the air reproachfully. "English, Saotome-kun. English is what we speak, English is what we are doing." She supposed she could have phrased that differently, but she knew he would try for sure now, the determined glint in his eyes, usually shown when they had an argument about the justice in the classroom.

"Well, let me rephrase that then, teacher. I am fine, how are you, teacher?" She shook her head gently. "You've got to pronounce it differently, make the whole structure different. English is a different form from what we're used to, so try to formulate things a bit different." "I am fine, how are you, Miss Ninomiya?" She smiled. "I am well, thank you. Could you tell me what you like about my classes?"

"Err, that you're able to make us learn English and keep order well?" She nodded, urging him to go on. "You're able to explain to us just how to speak English in a passable way? Sorry, I didn't pay much attention in class, there were always some distractions." She nodded absently. "Well then, could you tell me when you should be using the verbalized form of English in our own Japanese?" he scratched his head, looking at the ground. "Nope."

"I guess we can write that down as a pass for that section. Now, onwards to the next bit."

As the students entered the building, hearing the chatter of their homeroom teacher with someone who seemed to be in the classroom with her, they got curious. As they saw just who was having some tutoring by their sensei, they started to feel fear in the pit of their stomach. Slowly, that fear worked itself up, towards their brains, as they filtered into the room one by one, their teacher giving them a small admissive nod every time they seemed to come in, as they took their seats.

"Well, I guess we can mark that up as a satisfactory grade for English vocabulary. You surprise me, Mister Saotome, I have not had the pleasure to speak at such a level for quite a while, I must say it was enjoyable." She kept the appearance of the dutiful teacher up, although she wanted to giggle right now. The students looked like they'd been delivered the news that they'd have to fight Ranma in a martial arts contest, looking quite stupefied and stunned. "Well class, it's time for Attendance call. Ayano Asuka?" The girl raised her hand, a scared squeak coming from her lips as Hinako noted down her attendance.

"Excuse me sensei, but did we just hear correctly, that Ranma got good marks on English?" She nodded, smiling sweetly, just like her child form would. "That would be correct. I've done a basic assessment of Saotome-san's skills along with the final exam you would receive, once you would leave Furinkan High, and he has passed. His English is sufficiently advanced, to put him through to another higher education." Ranma snored at that moment, disturbing the silence that had fallen as she spoke. "And he seems to be sleepy. Guess you're present, mister Saotome." She noted with a faint hint of amusement in her voice.

"RANMA NO BAKAAAA!" A bag hit him on the head, as a punch followed it up, the sound of his desk breaking, his head hitting the ground echoing through the room. He could feel the concrete under him shift a little, as it seemed another fracture had been made into it. "Are you alright, Saotome?" Came Hinako's voice, as she stepped towards him, Akane saying something that went unheard, as blood seemed to rush towards his head, his eyes feeling so heavy right now, that he could just sleep the day away.

"Good riddance to the jerk, he was being a jerk anyways, I don't see why you show so much care for a womanizing jerk at all, Hinako-sensei!" Hinako absently noted the many usages of the word Jerk within Akane's vocabulary while scribbling something down, a thing that looked remarkably like the word 'Remedial Classes', next to Akane's name, along with a note of 'disrespecting a teacher'. "Saotome-san just finished his English Assessment Exam. As you all don't seem to have the required skill in English, it'll be double English today, and no homeroom. You have to thank miss Tendo for that." The chill which went through the room as she began to write things on the board, sentences that could be taken for extremely advanced English, the class groaned. This was not what they'd expect, not this early in the morning.

_Punisher's War Journal, 9__th__ of June 19XX_

_Found a Yak, made him squeal. Guess they still remember when we came to their country and nuked it, because that one spoke a lot. Got a good 20 million Yen off them and they got new breathing holes. Guess it sucks to be them, I suppose we're not entitled to new breathing holes. Got to get my hands on another ticket for the kid soon, if he's made up his mind. _

_I'll see about getting him a piece, it'll be better for him to have a gun at hand, for when he can't get close. Now… let's see about that dealer, that Nabiki Tendo gal. The Yak said she'd be at school about to oversee some deal with some kids. Guess she's going to meet her maker._

Ranma dozed a little as he sat on a bench, resting his eyes a little. He had managed to survive classes till Akane had blown up again, Hinako-sensei sending her out into the hall to contemplate her errors. He supposed it'd only keep her busy for an hour or so, when lunch break came around. The Bento that Kasumi had made rested within his hands, as he began to slowly dig in, his eyes still closed, just enjoying the taste. Giggling laughter came to his ears and he snapped his eyes open, looking at the giggling person.

It was a younger student, seated on a bench, something within his hands, as another set of giggles made themselves be known to the world, Ranma getting up and walking over to the student, the brown shaggy hair, the gaunt face and unclear eyes showing him enough that this wasn't a healthy kid. "You alright?"

"Leave me alone, Saotome. Can't ya see I'm enjoying myself? No need for them floozies to come over to ya an mess up my trip man."he snorted in disbelief, hoisting the guy up to eye level. "You're going to quit doing drugs and focus more on your studies, got it? Otherwise, you are going to have a nice little date with my fist and your face. Got that?" he waved his fist threateningly, the student paling. "I'll be good, I'll be good!"

Ranma shook his head at the pathetic behavior. "Who's your dealer?" he grabbed the kid's neck, squeezing a little, the choking sound being beautiful, if he had any appreciation for it. Releasing his grip a few moments later, letting the student drop to the ground again. A reproachful glare was sent at the boy, who scrambled to get away, only to have a kick to the ribs land, without the usual force that Ranma used. "Your dealer, and don't try to run, I'll find you." Now, the kid was scared, Ranma appearing as a foreboding angel of death to him, the colors of the world becoming black and grey. "Nabiki! She's Nabiki Tendo man! Yo Fiance's sister!"

"Is that so? Well, you've got ten minutes to get out of here and clean your act up, I don't tolerate druggies in my school, they're a bad influence." With that, he left to find Nabiki, to find out whether the kid spoke the truth. He had an inkling that it was true, but he was willing to give the benefit of doubt, for Nabiki wasn't well liked by the majority of the school. He walked back into the building, tracking down one of Nabiki's flunkies and grabbing the girl in the neck of her uniform. "Where's Nabiki?"

"Nowhere where you should know, Saotome." Came the reply. Ranma closed his eyes and sighed softly. "There's someone out there who's going to kill her, come on, tell me where she is." The flunky's eyes widened. "Are you sure about that? They're not going for Akane this time?"

"No, there was some Martial Accountant who's decided she needs to die. He's got all those weird stuff, like numbers and such." He played the brute brawn well, he decided, the flunky caving in and telling him where to find Nabiki. He walked to the supply office first, getting some things from there, watching for a moment, to see the flunky pass him by, seemingly going to warn Nabiki of the impending threat.

She was just counting the money made from her sales when one of her lesser associates entered, out of breath and panting for air. "What's the situation?" "There's some mad martial artist looking for your blood, boss! Saotome asked where you were, said something about them going for you, something with martial arts accounting or something, so watch out!" She sniffed. "My sister's fiancé can't lie, so I suppose you'd better get everyone armed. I'm sure Kuno-san would be willing to overlook a little gunfire in school when we offer him a small cut of today's earnings, so let's get ourselv-" Something flew through the air, imbedding itself into the ground before her. She picked it up, to see that it was a numbers sheet, the paper unnaturally hardened to such an extent that it was for all purposes a metal sheet thrown at her.

"My name is the Punisher. Tendo Nabiki, are you the one who has been selling drugs on this schoolyard?" Ranma stepped forth from the shadows, a bandanna around his head, his hair loosened, a pen in his left hand, while another sheet of paper was in his right hand. "Yeah, I am guilty. So what? We've got my sister's fiancé coming here, he'll show you that it's bad to cross me!" Here, Ranma chuckled, his hand with the pen in it, rising a little. "I've come to the conclusion that you would be costly to replace for the Yakuza, Tendo Nabiki. So therefore, I will administer administrative hell upon you! TAX PAPER BARRAGE!"

In reality, they were just some number sheets Ranma had pulled from the supplies office, but they were thrown in such a manner that they whirled around Nabiki, his ki forming the guiding wire between them, as they descended, blood leaking through the white paper, as the person buried under it seemed to wrench herself free from it. "You can't do this! I have friends, powerful friends, they'll kill you and your family!"

Ranma watched as she tried to flee, her associates running for a crate that they'd hidden there, one of them pulling a gun from it. He gritted his teeth as he looked at the girl, his hand raising a little, as ki began to dance within his hand. "You'd best put the gun down girl. It's too soon for you to be dead by my hands. I am only after your leader, you can go-." BLAM!

A shot grazed his cheek, drawing a small cut on it, his eyes narrowing, as a murderous grin came on his face. "GET HIM!" Nabiki said as she too ran for the crate. Ranma's eyes narrowed, as he began to feel how another bullet hit him, this time in the shoulder. Anger blossomed in his body, which was radiated within his ki. His eyes seemed to glow, as the air around him took an azure hue. "Time for punishment." He muttered, as he disappeared from view, his first jump having been enough to clear the distance, his hand clenching around a flunky's neck, the savage grin on his face, as he tossed said flunky away, the scream of the girl sounding through the room, as she impacted with the wall, some blood splattering over the wall, Ranma not watching the results from his position, as he moved onwards with his slaughter.

His hand cut through the air, a single leaf of paper within it, that cut sharper than a katana, an arm severed at the elbow joint, the scream of pain being the only thing that really penetrated his senses, as he grabbed the limb and then tossed it towards Nabiki, who'd been trying to get a good shot in, the arm hitting her in the arms, a bullet flying past him, straight into the chest of the girl who'd just lost a part of her arm, the warm blood splattering him in the face, as he began to feel the cold rage burn deeper into his chest. "Nabiki, I suggest you cease this foolishness! Your fate was made the moment you started with the drugs, I am only it's executioner today! Spare your minions your foolish quest to injure me, for I am Vengeance!" he could hear another gunshot, the feeling of a bullet grazing his skin on his side, his eyes turning towards the girl who'd fired a shot at him, his hand beginning to glow with ki. "Do you really think someone is going to let this go unpunished? My sister's a fiancé of the most powerful martial artist around here, he'll come here and rescue me, out of obligation to my family! You're done for!"

He chuckled softly at that, looking around for something to use, his hands itching a little to finally end the life of one of the people who had sinned. His eye fell upon some of the drug that they'd been intending to sell, his hand going to one of them, before looking at the slightly older girl. "You are dead." There was no argument in his tone of voice, until something seemed to buzz, a meow being heard throughout the room. He froze.

She noticed his freezing all too well, the reaction being similar to Ranma's whenever he heard or saw a cat, so her mind put itself to work, watching as her ringtone had frozen him in place. If he had this reaction to the sound of a cat, then it could only be her sister's lunk of a fiance, otherwise there'd be more idiots that had a fear of cats that she knew. "You're not going to get away with this, you son of a bitch! You and your father have been a blight on my family's household for the time you spent, eating our food!"

Rage blossomed within his heart, as he grabbed one canister of the fluid that'd been used for drugs, noting the smell to be somewhat like gasoline, emptying the canister over Nabiki's head, watching her hair be soaked within the solution, his eyes becoming grimmer as the girl seemed to struggle. "This is punishment, Tendo." a small spark of his ki did the trick, the flames writhing over the body without much effort, his eyes watching the glare, watching as she writhed, screaming as her flesh seared itself. The smell of burning human meat hung in the air, as he watched her try to claw at her skin, waiting for the flames to put her out of her misery.

Sometimes, he had a gut feeling. This was one of the times, where the gut feeling came in handy, as he heard the ambulances come. He didn't know what had happened but by the amount, he supposed there may have been a shooting or something. He rounded the corner, about to go to the school his protege had been attending, only to watch medics get off the ambulances and rush towards the school.

Ranma stood there, looking at the corpse of Nabiki, a tap with his foot to her skull crushing it without further incident. It never hurt to be absolutely sure something was dead, after all. The sound of the ambulances, along with the police didn't put him off ease as he began to formulate a plan. Jumping up to the ceiling, he imploded a wall towards him, shouting loudly; "NABIKI!"

that pulled attention to him, as he landed once again, the teachers that had come to the sound of gunfire watching as he stood in front of the body of Nabiki, the heat of the still smoldering corpse making his eyes tear up a little. "Nabiki?" he asked almost questioningly, as if he couldn't believe he'd failed in protecting her. One of the teachers pulled him aside, Kuromasa-sensei if he believed it alright. "Ranma, do you have any idea who did this?"

"There was some guy who claimed to be from Martial Arts Accountancy, trying to go after Nabiki. I tried to catch up to him, but it was too late i suppose. Poor Nabs, i'll really miss her." _Like foot amputation._ He looked at the body for a few more moments, as he then was led away, as the medics did what they could for the bodies, the body bags beginning to already be unveiled. It was uncharacteristic for Nerima to employ many body bags, as the fights between Martial Artists seemed to keep the casualties to a practically non-existent level, but this was once again a grim reminder why you did not cross the Martial Artists.

"Ranma-kun, do you want to talk?" Hinako asked, as she looked him in the eye trying to search for any emotion other than the cool demeanor he'd showed when he'd saved her. His eyes were dispassionate, as he shook his head, rubbing his upper right arm softly, a habit she'd picked up on because there'd been some times he'd given the most implausible lies about why he'd not been able to finish his homework on time. She sighed deeply, filing it away for later. There would be a meeting about this with the Tendo's she knew, about why their daughter was found immolated in the school.

As soon as she heard there'd been an accident, she let drop the pot she'd been holding, the boiling rice within it splashing over the floor. "Nabiki... dead?" She could feel her heart beating quicker than it had been before, memories of their mother flashing before her, just as her father came in, asking about the ruckus. "Daddy... Nabiki's dead, they say she was killed." Then, she watched as her father, the man who'd once been the source of pride in her life, broke down, the tears dropping onto the ground like a showerhead bursting.

He watched the kids get out of the schoolo like rats off a sinking ship. He supposed the kid had something to do with it, if the faint smell of burning flesh was a good indication. Crying girls seemed to be the predominant thing, along with boys that seemed to be mock-sympathetic. He heard a loud scream of a girl, screaming something about Ranma, which drew his attention, enough to watch part of the wall collapse outwards, his training making him roll away immediately towards cover, watching how his kid got himself out of the remnants. A glowing girl seemed to be focusing on him mainly, ranting in Japanese to him while wielding a glowing hammer of sorts. The kid said something back, something that he didn't get, the language going way too fast for him to comprehend. Moments later, he got the attention of the kid, who looked at him long and hard for a moment, before indicating through body language that they would chat later, turning back to the girl again.

"Are you alright?" That's what he supposed she said to him, having a mask of worry on her face, which seemed to be tear-streaked. He blinked a few times, seemingly incomprehensible, before answering in plain English. "I don't speak Japanese, you know English?" The girl blinked once and then re-asked. "You alright being, sir?" The English was passable, he supposed, for someone with little skill in it. "Yes, the wall collapsed outwardly, it didn't hurt me. Is he okay?" he pointed at Ranma, who seemed to be waiting for the girl, the shirt he wore being ripped and torn in several places, some small burns being visible upon it, the black material still clinging to his body, even though the skull upon it was gone. "No worry about him, he idiot. Ranma-" A string of Japanese followed, the kid giving a despondent sigh. Further investigation would be merited, but not now. Now, it was time to do some investigation on Ranma Saotome.

He watched the Punisher leave, there being no indication that the man had seen him or noticed his signal, but he'd have to find a way to get to him quickly, without arousing more suspicion. Moments later, he felt he was being dragged by the ear by his fiance who seemed intent on berating him about not being quick enough to save her sister. He narrowed his eyes, as he tried to keep himself in check, wanting to slap her silly so badly, for all her pre-conceived notions and her righteous demeanor. In her eyes, her family was an absolute, holy institution, but he saw how it really worked.

Out of the whole Tendo family, only Kasumi had any redeeming features, being kind and motherly and looking out for the health of her guests and her family, while also maintaining the house. He could feel his heart burn as he thought to the other members, sans the dead ones. Soun Tendo, a man who'd trained with his father, supposedly a master of Anything Goes, but a nervous wreck and largely unresponsive to anything that doesn't concern his family. In great shape once, but now relying upon fear and intimidation tactics, not upon strength, wit and cunning as he would have, once before. Akane Tendo, his supposed Fiance, a ball of anger, frustration and unrestrained power, gunpowder ready to go off and smite anything with a dick in sight if it so became needed in her warped and twisted mind, convinced above all that females were right in all respects.

Then there had been Nabiki Tendo, the mercenary of the family, willing to sell out pictures of him in undressed states to his suitors, along with doing other unfavorable things, like have a silly competition to not spend money on something with someone he could barely remember, his memory not giving it too much of interest. He had taken his ire out on her, her body now burnt to a crisp in a manner which had no resuscitation, but still he felt a nagging sense of unrest within his body.

They arrived at the Tendo house, his muscles aching a little by the long trek with Akane dragging him over the ground, supposedly a small penance for his transgression of not being fast enough to save her sister. She let go of him as soon as she saw her sister, running up to her and hugging her with all of her life, it really was a testament to how well Kasumi took the crushing force, her eyes bugging out momentarily, the smile fading for a moment as she tried to breathe again before it rose once more, like the rising sun and she patted Akane on the head, her eyes focusing on him. He stared her in the eyes for a long time, waiting for her to look away, but she didn't. Her eyes seemed to bore deep into his, as they seemed to be taking a while, Akane giving little sobs, muttering things to which Kasumi spoke some comforting words, her eyes never ceasing to look at him.

"Ranma-kun? Could you... Could you please clean up the mess in the kitchen? I dropped a pot there and." He complied without saying anything, brushing past her without any incident, her dress rustling slightly with his passage. Moments later, he arrived at the kitchen, where he started to clean up the rice from the ground, his hands deftly scooping up the rice, looking at the towel rack for one, grabbing one before picking up the rice and beginning to clean the floor. Sometimes, it was more valuable to spend time doing something rather than doing nothing.

"Boy, go and support your fiance. With the mercenary girl dead, we're here on Tendo-kun's good graces alone. You will do this for honor, boy." He looked at his father, his face unresponsive, as he tried to figure out a good answer. "She doesn't want me there pops, she's shutting everyone out, just cuz Nabiki got iced by a guy with a vengeance against her." A jab to the face was dodged. "Boy you should've been faster! This will be retraining for you!" He looked at his father without saying a word, but his face spoke volumes, hardening in a manner that would remind Genma of his wife, when she got serious about something.

"Are you certain you wish to file adoption of this boy, sir?" He nodded, looking at the Japanese woman that manned the records at what went for a government office in this country. He wasn't at all pleased with the reactions once he'd mentioned the kid's name, his brain telling him that the kid may be something very special after all. "Saotome Ranma, no, Ranma Saotome, you westerners seem to spell it like that, is a special case. His records indicate that he has not followed the standard education that we require, yet you wish to adopt him, even though his name is known by the police to be a troublemaker, along with his father, I believe." She paused there, as he put his hand on the table, the wood creaking a little as her eyes widened. "Whatever the kid's been doing around here, I don't care. His parents aren't doing a shit about his schooling, so I am stepping in, as an American Citizen. Ranma Saotome, is a kid who i've met when his father sold him off to the Yakuza for some beer debt or what you may call it, and it's because of the lout of a father that he has that he's got such a long absence of school." The clerk pushed her rimmed glasses up her nose again, as she rubbed her arms gently. "You can of course file adoption, but without his parent's approval, I am afraid I cannot do much. They have to sign custody over to you, for you to be able to legally adopt him, although should you and Ranma-san come over here and allow him to give his approval, we can get this on the books, mister Castiglione." He nodded, pulling the coat on once more, leaving the clerk to her work, as she began to file her nails.

_Punisher's War Journal, 9__th__ of June 19XX_

_Governments are all the same. Screw over the people trying to make a change, doesn't change from America to Japan. Got to bring the kid in for his written permission to adopt, guess it won't be a surprise anymore then. Think we're about done with the Yakuza around here, went by their headquarters before going to the government building, lots of em bleeding out right now from new holes in their bodies._

_Now, get myself back to the hotel, dress nicely and find Ranma again and ask him whether he'd like to become my kid officially._

_Also get cooperation from the lady we saved. School records are useful for transferring to another one, I remember Maria *paper stained by tears* She spoke about getting Frank Junior enrolled and mentioned the papers we'd need for getting him there._

_Now, back to the hotel._

He could feel the air around him be disturbed as he sat in the room he and his father shared, his patience running out quickly, as he opened his eyes, looking for the disturbance, only to see Kasumi standing there. "Thank you, Ranma-kun." There was a moment of pause, where she seemed to wish to say more, he beckoned her over to sit next to him, his ki beginning to waver a little as she stepped within it's reach.

"Were you really too late, or did you see her doing something that wasn't... right?" Her voice quivered a little, as she looked at the young man, her sister's fiance, who had seemed to be so silent for most of the dinner they'd ate under the hush of the new death in the family, him and his father being the only ones who could eat, Akane's eyes being puffy and her father causing a small flood with his tears. She'd had suspicions about Ranma for some time since seeing his unrepentant face upon watching him be dragged to the house by Akane, but she had to know.

"She was dealing drugs for the Yakuza, Kasumi." He said, looking her in the eyes again. Her face betrayed a small amount of shock, her eyes glistening slightly, as if she tried tosuppress tears. "I had a feeling..." A sob was suppressed, her body quivering a little. "She always seemed to be so focused on bringing in money for the household, that she made the wrong friends and such. I heard a phone call she made, about how stuff was going to have to be delivered to a place where it was save, but I didn't want to believe..." a shuddering breath was taken by the young woman and Ranma laid a hand on her shoulder, as the eldest Tendo daughter sank into his embrace, taking comfort in the gesture.

"As long as there are criminal organisations, it will never be peace for the normal people." He muttered as he gently rubbed Kasumi's shoulder, the girl now beginning to cry, her tears staining his red shirt, but he didn't care about that. His hands kept on caressing her, giving her the support she needed. "Do you think you could... do something about the Yakuza? Nabiki may have fallen in with a bad crowd but... I can't blame her murderer for doing what he did. It's better this way, better than having Nabiki do something wrong and having it be taken out on the family."

"I already did." Ranma said, looking out the window, the stars being out and shining brightly. "I met a man ten years ago, when I was in America, he showed me that there is justice that fights against crime." There wasn't much that Kasumi Tendo didn't know about Ranma, but the look on his face spoke volumes, as he began to look a lot lighter in the face, his eyes shining a little as he took a deep breath. "Did you have anything to do with her death?"

"Yes." He said, looking at her reaction, which was surprisingly empty. Maybe she was going to tell the rest of the family, but he couldn't care less about it. If he was going to get out of this place alive, without any attachments, he'd better get something done quickly, before there would be a good reckoning.

He stood in front of the apartment building, holding within his hands the address of the woman who was Ranma's teacher. He had gained information through the grapevine, about how there had been a shooting and some fatalities upon the school grounds. If he wanted to get Ranma out of the country quickly, he'd have to act immediately before there would be an official investigation. Soon, he'd ascended the stairs and to the door. He pressed the doorbell a few times, the sound of someone tripping over something being heard, as the door was opened by the small childlike form of Hinako. "Ahh, you're back. What can I do for you?"

"Would like to have some of his educational records, if it's possible. We're going to be leaving the country soon when I get the kid adopted." He watched her eyes widen, as she opened the door wide, almost falling because of the motion, his hand catching her by the dress she wore, even as she began to bid him inside, giving an account of what happened, along with her suspcions of Ranma having something to do with it. "The kid only goes after organized crime. This Tendo girl, was mentioned by some of the Yakuza to be their in person in that school, and for that she was likely eliminated." She looked long and hard at him, before sighing. "I had a friend once, she was such a bright girl. Miyako was her name. We went to college together, attending English classes together, sharing notes and so forth. At close to the end of our studies, I heard she had been taking something to relax. I didn't put much stock in the rumors at first but..." here she faltered for a moment, her breath hitching, her eyes looking at Frank's eyes, her breathing coming a bit easier now that she'd dealt with a powerful emotion. "I found her laying on the couch, needle still sticking out of her arm, so pale, so cold... she'd died of an overdose, they told me, but I never knew... I never knew that she was so into drugs." Her childlike voice spoke, her adult brain apparently being in charge, as Frank offered her a small handkerchief.

"You want his records for transfer to America? That's fine, i'll arrange for them to be given to you when you've finished the adoption procedure. Ranma-kun's parents will likely object, but you will use the clause that he's 16 and capable of making his own decisions, right?" Frank nodded, looking at the teacher, who had went to her adult form, a bowl of fishes now looking a bit more drained, her hands clenching softly. "I wish you two the best." She reached forwards and placed a kiss on his right cheek, before withdrawing again, a blush rising to her cheeks.

He didn't say anything more, he just turned around, leaving through the door. Staying would only lead to unwise actions. "Thank you for your concern, Hinako-Sensei." He said, the term of respect lingering on his tongue, leaving behind a woman who was confused as to what to do now. She went to her filing cabinet she kept at home, withdrawing a bag of lollipops from it and began to suckle on one of them, it always seemed to calm her down a little.

Ranma waited in front of the hotel, knowing for certain that the man he wanted to see, was not there yet. "Kid, I got a surprise for you." Frank's voice growled, as he walked past Ranma, Ranma following without speaking, the hotel's staff not even noticing him.

"What's the surprise?" Ranma asked, curious as to the look on Frank's face, which showed a dark sense of pride. "You iced the Tendo girl today. Since that's a crime in most civilized parts of the world, I've decided to give you a little break. How would you like to become my son?"

"Are you serious?" Ranma asked, not believing his ears, that this man, this angel of vengeance, slayer of mafioso, was offering him a place as a son, adopted though, instead of only being the kid who helped out. "I mean… wow." Articulation was not the highest priority at that point, as he looked at the man, who had offered him a ticket out of this whole mess. With a name change, he'd be legally unbound from all agreements, as Saotome Ranma no longer existed. "When can we get it done?"

"If you want, tomorrow." He admired Ranma for a moment, his willingness, or perhaps, his desire to wage war upon crime being so intense, that it brought a tear to his eye. A rare smile flitted on his features, as he began to calculate the extra fees for bringing another person over the pacific. It wouldn't be too expensive, he supposed.

"Are you certain you want to do this? I am sorry, but I have to ask, it's a requirement to prevent people from bullying you into something." The clerk said, Ranma shaking his head. It was a surprise to him that the clerk hadn't recognized him, albeit he supposed that he looked a bit different now. He'd abandoned his red shirt for a black one, that blended in better with his pants, the skull motif on the front coming across as a fashion statement apparently.

"Yeah, the Saotome name's done me nothing but bad, my father wrecked its reputation enough." His voice was resolute, as the clerk typed in the required things. With a few official seals and stamps, Saotome Ranma ceased to exist, Castiglione Ranma appearing within the database.

A week later, Ranma boarded the plane towards New York, his old life left behind, his eyes holding within them a determination that was rare to see in one so young. Hinako had shown up to see him off, the rest of his schoolmates accompanying her. It was a heartening sight, he noted, as he recalled the events that had led up to this, his eyes focusing on the only Tendo to have come. Kasumi stood there, dressed in an immaculate white sundress, one which normally would not suit anyone during the day, but her homely beauty made it look all the better on her. It seemed more like she were preparing for a wedding or something similar, although Ranma knew that she believed in him.

Beware, New York City, because the Punisher and his newly adopted son are coming…

* * *

Wheeeeeee! It's done, it's done, it's done! I'm going to try and keep this in the main marvel universe, as by the Punisher comics around these days, maybe interject some Punisher MAX style things, as I LOVED reading it.

Here's a small forecast of what goes on in the next chapter, call it incentive to review ^^

"_Are you certain it's him?" The voice said rushed through the telephone, the person on the other end laughing raucously. "Of course! Punisher's been gone for a few weeks and busts up our operations an now he's-" The person on the other end cut off suddenly, a gargling and strangled sound coming from the other end of the receiver. "Pete? Pete, what's happening?" A crunching sound, much like a__bag of crisps being crushed into a ball was heard, the phone being picked up. "I'm coming for you."_

And here's another likely bit to come across in the next chapter. I've already got the next three chapters planned, sorry for the delay though. Had to finish up some loose ends, got busy, had a small accident… the works, I suppose.

_She stared at herself in the full-body mirror, her pale skin accentuating her deep brown eyes, dark red lipstick coloring her lips, while her short pair of pants showed off her well-sculpted behind. She turned around, a wave of her long hair cascading down, as she ran a brush through it, her reflection pleasing her for the moment, even as she began to search for a bra to wear, selecting a red lacy one, one that would suit her image well. A loose blouse would also give a hint of what would be underneath, slightly opened to show that she did wear lace, but that it wouldn't be touchable, unless one wanted to lose an arm. "Miss __Innocenti, you have school in an hour, when are you leaving?"_

_Her attendant asked her, her hand touching her cheek softly as she gave her best sultry smile into the mirror. Being the daughter of the head of the Innocenti Mafia had it's perks. Yes, she had it made._

Well, I'm just introducing a few new characters… I suppose

"_Look, it's a new one!" A black youth said, as Ranma entered the premises of the school he would attend, Ranma's only response being to remain stoic. "B__ro, we gotta make the newbie respect da hood." The young man stayed in the shadows, as his eyes fell upon the Japanese youth. "Wait, Shaun. Let's check his moves out first. Something's off about the chink." "Sure, Ter." And so, the leader of the black gangs that hung around the area Terence 'Ter' H. Crowley._

The Punishers get new killing grounds, it seems.

Reviews are wanted!

Your opinion on how things are wanted to proceed too :)


	4. The States of Americaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

_**Punishment Due**_

Disclaimer – You know, some good reviews would really help me to get more inspired. Basically, i'll give a reasoning behind the origins of Ranma in this universe, and why Genma was so cowardly. Yakuza, are by nature family oriented. That means, that if you resist, they'll take a finger or do something worse. It would not be too farfetched to consider that they would go after the wife of a man, if said man crossed them. Genma still loves his wife, even if he's not seen her for a long time. Also, the fact that Genma is a martial artist and the comment about the guns being useless, is mainly conjecture. Not many people are able to dodge a bullet, after all. Genma with all his bulk, would be able to dodge the first shot perhaps, but would fall under a barrage of gunfire. Nobody's immortal, after all. Also, it is likely popular myth that the martial artists, who seem to gather around Ranma, can do stuff with ordinary things, like use light-poles for fighting and such. That is why it's considered to be foolish to get guns in Nerima to hurt one of the fighters there.

For an explanation about why i put in the scene in which Ranma's origins are vested? Well, Frank Castle, in both universes, either Earth 616 (Main marvel continuum) and MAX universe (Without superheroes), has expressed a special dislike for human traffickers. Ranma being used as such a... thing, would also gain him a special distaste for organized crime, as Frank Castle has for the mafia, who killed his daughter and son. Being assaulted in such a manner, would also somewhat explain his lack of plain interest in the girls, along with holding Frank Castle in high regard, as his methods get things done. As for the choppy flow one of the reviewers mentioned, i can't do much about that. A beta would be absolutely fine to me, because I've got one thousand and other things to do other than edit a story chapter, and because of real life tensions.

I sleep about 2 hours a night, which blows ass... a lot.

*/*

**The States of Americaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa**

*/*

The first impression Ranma had of the city of New York, was all the lights. The plane that carried them to the big Apple was a Boeing 747, one that carried a load of smoking Americans back to their homestead. The lights below, along with the small glowing figures that went through the sky, one of them even blasting another with some ray of light, impressed upon Ranma, that this city was populated with people that were a bit less than standard about their business. In a way, it reminded him of what he'd been through in Nerima, along with the ending of the entire thing, with his violent streak getting the best of him.

"RANMA NO BAKAAAA!" The mallet came at him, his body sliding out of the way, his smile staying on his face as he engaged in some light exercise, his feet moving his body out of the way of Akane's strikes, after she'd deemed him too slow to save her sister from some freak, the evidence that Nabiki may have been involved in drugs being dismissed because her sister would never do something like that. "Stand still and let me hit you!" He gave her a look that clearly told her that he thought her an idiot, his hand moving for the first time to grab the handle of the mallet, the instrument of ki energy collapsing at his touch. "You are dumb if you believe that just because you said to stand still, that i'm going to do it. You must have some brain problem, Akane, if you just want a man to stand still so he can get pummeled by that damn hammer of yours." She raged a little, tried to punch him, but he knew that it was futile, his body moving quickly into range of her body, grabbing her chest and pinching the nipples to hard that Akane's scream rattled the windows of the neighborhood. "Yeah, that's a sample of the pain I go through by landing."

he looked at the small pile of Akane which lay there, foam on the mouth due to the pain overload, her nipples likely bruised and sore when she woke up again. Who knew the violent tomboy to be so sensitive?

"Is everything alright with- RANMA HOW DARE YOU HURT MY LITTLE GIRL!" Soun Tendo entered, his tearstained face turning into a massive demonic caricature of a face, a serpentine tongue lolling out of the mouth of the beast, his eyes glowing with a yellowish tinge. "She and I sparred and she lost. You should know the rules of a match of Anything Goes, right? I was just trying to teach her a few things and she passed out." The sagely look on the man's face was a wholly different thing now, as he looked at the young man who'd tried to teach his little angel something with pride. "Ah, you tried to teach her the Ancient Way of Toughening, right? Maybe you should try with something a bit easier. Akane, daddy will teach you!" In a way, Ranma supposed it would be touching to see the father go to his daughter and try to revive her, only to get a fist to hit him in the chin with the usual brute force Akane placed behind it. To his current state of mind, it re-inforced that Akane was as usually, violent. "Tomboy, you just knocked out mr Tendo! Care for him would ya?"

Akane's reply was not for the typing, as it was quite foul and derisive to his manhood. Kasumi walked in moments later with a bar of soap and a small brush, proceeded to bend Akane over her knee and then push the bar of soap in her mouth and move it a few times, the foam that had been already on Akane's mouth disappearing, but her eyes still filled with rage, as her gaze fell upon Ranma. "No naughty words, Akane. Mother would not approve." Ranma disappeared in the meantime, his presence no longer wanted around. He hopped onto the roof first, his legs carrying him towards the restaurant owned by his so-called Cute Fiance, the one with the bombs and the other cooking utensils, for further clarification.

"Ranchan! What can I do for you?" The chef asked when she just hopped an okonomiyaki on a plate, her hands preparing another okonomiyaki for another paying customer, her hands working automatically, the small bandolier with throwing spatulas glistening for a moment. "I was wondering if we could have a chat about the engagement thing." She dropped almost everything for him, ushering out customers, as she said there was something private that'd come up, the customers taking a look at Ranma and understanding what happened, the exploits of this young man being widely known among the locals.

"Miss Ukyou went to freshen herself up, have something to drink, Saotome-san." Konatsu appeared once again, wearing a frilly kimono, totally not looking like the man he was underneath it all. There was a small edge in his voice that was hard to spot, but Ranma did and nodded, accepting the glass of water without any word said. "Ranchan, how do I look?" The sundress she wore was a deep blue colour, flattering her figure. Ranma knew that the girl would be crushed by his words soon enough, but he hoped she'd still remain a friend. "Ucchan, could you sit down, please? This may be a bit tough for you." That was an understatement, as he'd essentially already cut ties with her by the name and family change. "Sure. You're finally going to ditch the tomboy and go for your cute fiance, right?"

He shook his head, looking her in the eyes and taking a deep breath. "Ukyou, you've been a good friend since we first met and now you're one of my fiance's... but I want to break off our engagement. Now, before you start crying, I want you to listen, okay?" He held up a hand, her eyes already tearing up, a stern look coming on his face. "It's not something you wanted to hear, but it's the truth. My... father, dragged your and my name through the mud at every opportunity, even allowed some people to take what was not theirs to take, but I want you to know that I still like you as a friend. You're ready to listen, even though you're one of the fiance's I've been saddled with. But just... Just be my friend okay?" He watched as her face seemed to be tearing up, her eyes misty and wet, a few tears rolling down her cheeks already as she began to hiccup a little.

"It hurts." She said, her voice thick with emotion as she looked at her ex-fiance, who'd just broken up with her. Slowly, he seemed to get a smile on her face, as he spoke in one of the gentlest voices she'd ever heard from him. "It'll hurt for now, but I can't allow you to waste your life going after me. It'll be tough for you but consider that there are more boys out there, for you to follow around and bash over the head with that spatula." She cracked a little grin at that, his face smiling too, even as she took a very deep breath, Konatsu arriving with a few tissues, which she gratefully snatched. This would be better for her, she realized. If he broke up with her, saying it'd be better for her to be unaffiliated with her, it might just redeem her in her father's eyes. Then a peculiarity in his way of phrasing was noticed by her. "Eh, Ranchan, what did you mean with someone taking what wasn't theirs to be taken?"

He clammed up at that moment, his eyes getting an uncharacteristic steelly tint to them, as his face seemed to struggle not to go into an angry one, his calm seriously lost as he clenched his hand into a fist for a moment, taking a deep breath seemingly to steady himself. "Genma Saotome gave his son to Yakuza. That time was not the most pleasant of times." She shuddered at the look he gave her, her hands clenching softly, as she had heard about what Yakuza did to people that displeased them. They were the reason sometimes parts of people were found floating in Tokyo bay.

"Were they... bad?"Ranma nodded, his hand stroking his hair lightly, his eyes looking at her, boring into hers to convey the message that it had not all been sunshine and peaches. She caught up on it, her eyes growing troubled now. "What happened? Did your father rescue you again?" Ranma shook his head. "He left me to rot. The Yakuza would go after mom and me if he didn't give them me, so the panda buggered off. I don't know nor do I really care much, what happens to Genma." He snapped his fingers a few times, the sound of his fingers being the only sound in the room, as time seemed to freeze for a split-second.

"I better go now. Ucchan, thanks for listening for a moment and sorry that things won't work out well." He exited through the front door, his hands lingering upon the doorpost for a moment, his hand stroking the wood for a moment, Ukyou knowing that this may be the end of their engagement, but perhaps they could still stay friends.

"Ranma!" She shouted, his form stopping, his head turning around, to regard her. "Let's just be friends, like in the old days, okay?" She smiled brightly while fighting back tears, her eyes looking at his as he bowed before her, a sign of formality. "That would be nice." He said, before turning away, a few tears beginning to form in his eyes, his body moving on its own accord, out of sight within moments.

He appeaed in front of his mother's house next, holding up the adress and looking at the front door, trying to see whether he had the correct one. It wasn't a stately house, like he'd expected but rather a common one, in a row. It didn't really stand out much, even as he rang the doorbell a few times. "What can I do for you, young man?" He looked at his mother and put on his best smile. "Hello mom. I've changed my style a bit, hope you like it." To see his mother gawk at him, he realized that the big skull on his chest along with leaving his hair a bit loose gave him a wholly different expression than his normal red and black attire, along with the pigtail. He was bid inside moments later by his mother, who seemed to be excited to have her son over finally. He recalled her threat about seppuku, vowing to deliver the news quickly and then get out of there, hopefully with no cuts.

"Mom, I've got to tell you something." The look she gave him gave him the chills, as she seemed to be expecting him to say he'd gotten some solution to the engagement thing. "I broke off the engagement with Ukyou Kuonji today. And I've come to-" He was cut off by his mother hugging him, saying something inane about finally making up his mind like a true man. "Mom, hold it would ya? I'm not done speaking yet. Isn't it the woman's privilege to allow men to finish speaking, before they do stuff?" His mother got a reserved look on her face, as she seemed to not agree with that at all, but held her tongue. "Also, Nabiki died yesterday. She got killed by someone working against the Yakuza she held deals with or something, I tried to save her mom, but she was dead by the time I got there." She gave a sad look at him. "Oh my poor baby, you must be so awfully shocked by not being there in time. Is Akane-chan handling it well?"

"Mom, I'm going to be extremely blunt with you right now, so bear with me for a moment. I'm leaving the family to strike out on my own because our honor is about zilch worth in the eyes of the average person anymore. Genma screwed up, mom, big time. Now don't go waving around that honor blade or threatening me with that seppuku thing, cuz I'm no longer a member of the Saotome clan. Now, I've said my piece, now's your turn, mom." The only thing his mother seemed to be able to do, was mutter unintelligibly, about shame, honor and dishonorable sons. He really supposed that there wasn't much to be done about it, the proverbial bomb being tossed already, the look on his mother's face being much like wanting to cry her eyes out for this sudden disaster.

"I'll just go then. You'll know where to find me, I haven't told the Tendo's yet, or the fat panda. Mom, I want you to live a good life, okay?" He disappeared out of the door moments later, leaving the Saotome matriarch to contemplate the news she'd just gotten. Ranma moved towards the Nekohanten, his last stop for the day, the time being pretty late already, as the talk with Ukyou had taken some time.

"Nihao honored customer, what can Shampoo do for you today?" Ranma didn't speak much, allowing him to be led to a table and be seated, Shampoo bouncing to get his menu for him. He had put in some effort to appear even less like himself, untying his hair and wearing it in a style that would cover his eyes slightly, pushing it in front of him. It wasn't really that different from having had a haircut, his hair in a different style was enough to put most rivals on a different track. "What would honored customer like to order? We have special special order on Peking Duck tonight, even if idiot Mousse not interrupt serving."

He flashed her his brightest smile. "I'll have the Peking Duck, please. Could you also give me a cup of herbal tea?" She smiled and bounced away, her breasts jiggling with every skip she made. He really didn't like her gungho attitude about this entire thing, even as she filed his order with the old ghoul, who smacked Mousse up the head and told him to bring the Peking Duck over to the paying customers.

"Here's your Peking Duck, sir. The herbal tea is still being prepared in the kitchen, it'll be there momentarily, if you'd like to wait for a moment." Mousse didn't recognize him, which was a thing Ranma was glad for, as he waggled a little back to the kitchen, an imprint of a high heel visible on the back of his clothes, Ranma wincing a little bit in sympathetic pain about the marks. "Here is your herbal tea, sir."

"Hey, you seem interested in the bouncy girl over there. Why not go for her, or is she already saddled with someone?" He asked, almost coyly, his eyes falling upon the myopic young man who seemed to freeze at his coy wordings. "It wouldn't work. She only has eyes for Saotome, i'm never going to get her." Ranma looked Mousse in the eyes for a moment, smiling softly. "Just try to up the charm and give her presents or something. Get rid of those glasses through eye surgery and treat her to a fresh new you." Mousse actually seemed to look around a little, spotting Shampoo busy with another table and the ghoul keeping track of the money flow while maintaining the kitchen at the same time. "I guess I could take a little break, to chat with you a bit more."

The next hour that followed, Ranma barely touched the Peking Duck, taking a bite here and there, but mainly keeping himself talking with Mousse, finding out how badly he was treated in the village and how Shampoo was the guiding light in his life, his closest friend or something, Ranma wasn't too sure, as mandarin occasionally interspersed the conversation, Mousse lost in memory without seemingly noticing his slipping tongue.

"So, if you're required to beat her, why don't you do so? You've got those hidden weapons skills, why not use them on Shampoo, knock her out and marry her then? Or just go for one of the local girls around here, they're plenty strong and they like a handsome young fella like you." Ranma watched as Mousse seemed to gain a burst of confidence, rising from his seat to exclaim his love for Shampoo again, until Ranma tapped him on the shoulder. "What's the price for my meal? I'd like to pay."

"Oh, honored customer, it's 1350 Yen."Ranma pulled the required money from his small wallet, the coins and bill jingling a little as he put them on the table. "Good luck with Shampoo." Mousse flashed a blinding grin, walking straight into a wall and collapsed to the floor moments later, rising instantly as the old ghoul came to check on him, sending him to the kitchen again.

He arrived at the Tendo home moments later, hair put in its original composition once more. He knocked thrice on the door, kasumi opening it before he could knock again, his hand held up in another knocking position, until she looked at him. "Ah, we're just about to have dinner. You're on time, Ranma-kun." He politely coughed, not feeling all that hungry, not after having ate something some time ago and learning a little bit more about the whole Amazon deal of marriage. He took his seat at the table nonetheless, keeping up appearances, but thanking politely for any food offered, his father not even noticing the lack of eating from him. Soun sat on the head of the table, his eyes looking serious and not clouded for the first time since Ranma had seen the man, the man noticing something new about the aquatranssexual.

Akane groaned softly as her hands were still sore from the training her father had given her, albeit a small amount of pride was shining in her heart. Soon enough, she'd be able to avenge her sister's death upon the one who'd killed her. Her gaze went to Ranma, who didn't seem to be eating, her mind working up reasons why he didn't eat, the facts buzzing through her head that both other fiance's had restaurants affiliated with them and thus being able to provide for his body, making him refuse oneechan's cooking.

"Why aren't you eating, Ranma? Did you eat at one of your floozies again!" The accusation was taken without ranma's face changing, Ranma looking at Akane with expressionless eyes. "I broke off the engagement with Ucchan today, Akane. If that is any explanation to you, I hope you are satisfied." That answer silenced the room for a moment, until Genma seemed to burst into a happy dance, Soun's eyes still looking into Ranma's, a moment of silence hanging in the air between them, as no words were spoken. "But you are also planning on breaking off the engagement with my little girl, aren't you Ranma?"

The words came out of the blue, Soun not even realizing he'd spoken himself, until Ranma nodded. "Yes, Tendo-san, that is true. Your middle daughter died, because of the martial artists always after me and I suppose it is only fair if I leave and do not darken your doorstep again." Soun Tendo was a man who was on the council of the city, his hands usually kept clean from the politics, having a vote in certain matters and such, but he knew that the boy spoke the truth. "Very well, Ranma-kun. As much as I would like to see it otherwise, the engagement between you and Akane is void. However, out of respect for your father, I would like to still offer you a place in my house, as you have proven to be a man of honor." Ranma looked at the man for a moment, taking a deep breath, then looking at his father. "Genma-ojisan, I told mom that I've left the family register, to clear my debts that you made. Thank you for teaching me in your style but you really could've been a better father." The panda-man seemed to watch him for a few moments, as he tried to speak, but found his mouth full of food, Ranma's hands feeding him more food with every moment that passed, until there was nothing left on his plate. The master of the Saotome branch of Anything Goes looked at his ex-son, who had renounced his kinship and thanked him for learning the style. "Oh well, I can make a new one."

Ranma had expected a different reaction, in the blustering tone that usually followed his father, but this was strange, how the man had seemingly accepted his lot in life, while he'd pressed the marriage earlier. "You're just letting me go, just like that? No Crouch of the Hidden Tiget or something stupid like that?" Genma nodded, looking actually sagely when he did that, his eyes looking at his former son, a glint within them that shone brightly, brighter than Ranma had ever seen. "You're better than me for the time being. No use to bargain, it's done and said. Good luck with your life."

The next morning, he appeared at school as if nothing happened, his hands covered in small cuts, plasters dotting them. He'd been working on developing something new, but the shards of wooden post still imbedded themselves within his hand whenever he tried. Class started as usual, their sensei droning on about the subject they gave and not rally looking up much, beside intoning what should happen and what could happen along with the best solution. "Hinako-sensei? I'll be leaving within a few days to another country, I was hoping if you would be so kind as to organize some sort of educational trip, so those that want to see me off can do so." The class perked up as they watched their hot teacher look pensive for a moment, before tersely nodding. "It's fine, we've not had our class trip yet. We can do this as an addendum or something, file it as an educational one, I guess."

He snapped back to the real world, as they exited the gate that had held their plane, the luggage arriving later apparently. If there was something different about this city, it might be the smells. There were hundreds of different smells that hung in the air, Frank's face scrunching up with distaste as he looked around, his hand twitching a little, as he seemed to have the will to fight. They waited for their bags to arrive, Ranma looking a bit out of tune with the rest of the people around, his ki flaring a little, trying to get a grasp on who might be dangerous. It was a force of habit, coming from being attacked almost daily by his rivals and the like, the caution he displayed not being too out of the ordinary for the people in Nerima.

"Son, we're going to City Hall first, deliver your paperwork and get you nationalized. Then we're going to go to our home." With a steady pace, Frank Castle stepped out of the lobby, Ranma in tow, his hands aching to be wielding a weapon, to dispense vengeance upon those that had killed his family and terrorized others.

"You wish to take this child as your own, having formally adopted him in Japan?" The clerk asked, chewing bubblegum whilst he looked at the details and such. "Yes, I was in contact with him over the years and adopted him, after finding his parents to be completely unreasonable individuals." The clerk looked up. "And you're okay with this, young man? He hasn't abducted or coerced you?" Ranma gave his most winning smile to the man, who looked impressed. "I'm his son in spirit, not in blood. My own family name is worthless now, our honor scrambled across Japan. That is why I will adopt this man's last name, to invigorate my honor."

"Sure, fine and all that. So it'll be... Ranma Castiglione?" Ranma nodded, looking at Frank for a moment. "Yes." The american english came out without a hitch, the clerk raising an eyebrow. "Not much of an accent you got there, you've been to the states before then?" Ranma nodded, rubbing his cheek a little bit. There were some hairs that had started to grow there. "Also, list me as male and female. I've got a bit of a curse placed on me, you Americans may see it as a mutation, but I assure you that I am 100% human." Ranma pulled from his sleeve a canteen, filled with cold water. "Watch me change." There was a small moment when the change seemed to wait on itself, until he could feel his bones shifting, his form growing shorter, as mounds seemed to form on his chest, the shirt that was previously loose, fitting a bit tighter now. "And I'm a redhead now." The clerk didn't keep much of his surprise under wraps. As he looked on, a teenager had just changed genders. He recomposed himself moments later, professionalism, save for the chewing gum, back in place. "You said it was a curse?" Ranma nodded. "Got it in China, wanted to get rid of it, but it's futile. Guess I'm lucky to be a girl instead of a sea slug or something. Hot water reverses the change, male's my natural form. If you'd like to make a small separate entry for the alternate form, please?"

Things were typed, codes were entered and the clerk's tongue poked out from between tense lips. "Done and ready, Mister Castiglione, Castiglione Junior. Pleasure doing business with you, and hope you forget about the... business of a few months back." Frank stepped up to the clerk, grabbing him by the neck. "You best keep straight then, Danny. You're not a criminal, but you're a crook however. And stay off the stuff, otherwise, you're going to be punished." He released the clerk, who fell on his chair heavily, looking at father and newly adopted son with annoyance in his eyes. "Yes Punisher, sir."

"So, I've got my stay in America, what's next?" Ranma asked once they left the government building, his new father smiling, Ranma getting the impression that it wasn't an oft occurrence, quite like an eclipse or something. "We're heading home, to your new home." The car they drove in was a volkswagen van, with weapons lining the inside, several guns prominently on display, it's appearance altered to resemble just another van that's used by someone who uses it to get about. Frank drove up to an apartment building in the middle of Queens. "Two flights of stairs up, and there we're at." Ranma followed him inside, carrying one of the suitcases that held most of Frank's luggage, his own luggage would be brought up, along with a nice rifle he'd spotted among the guns in the van. "Welcome to your new house, son."

He looked at his kid's reaction to being introduced to the new surroundings. There would be a room cleared first, but he didn't mind that too much. It was good to have someone around, after Max... The memory of his dog, who'd died in the line of duty pulled to his heartstrings for a moment, his eyes growing distant for a moment. "You were a good dog."

"What's this about a dog?" Ranma asked as he stood in the middle of the apartment, the walls decked out with almost every type of gun that would be buyable. "Say we're going to redecorate a bit. I don't think we'll be able to pass for a normal family while we look like we're going to fight a war against mad martial artists." Frank grinned at that. "I killed a martial artist once, he made me receive hospital treatment for three months, he'd broken most of my ribs. Then again, he was in the Kingpin's employ, so it shouldn't be too strange."

Ranma nodded, not knowing who or what a kingpin was, but he vowed to find out, not that it would be too difficult. "We're going to pose as a family then. Or actually, we are. Heh, I never really considered that." He laughed a bit sheepishly, whilst Frank merely nodded, thoughts about his own family coming to mind. "You'd have liked my wife Maria, she was always smiling, same with Frank Junior and Lisa. God, I miss them so much, but every son of a bitch I send to hell reminds me why I do what I do, and why you will do what I do." Ranma nodded, rubbing a hand over the barrel of an M411.

"Mister Castiglione? Are you there, Mister Castiglione? I saw your van park outside, Ive baked some cookies if you'd like to have some." Frank turned to the door, his hand resting on the doorknob for a moment. "Thanks Sharon. How's Alice?" He opened the door on a crack, the girl in the doorway only being about 18 years old. "Mom's fine, although she's gotten a cold or something. You've got a guest?"

"Son actually. Adopted him. Ranma, come and greet your neighbor!" Ranma appeared within the door opening, laying eyes upon a black mass of hair, with thickly rimmed glasses peering out from within the mass, along with pale skin. "H-hi. I'm S-Sha-Sharon Jensen, I'm your neighbor from three doors by. Welcome to the building." She gained confidence as she spoke, Ranma's assessment of her aura being done first, not finding a single hint about ki usage or something else that would put her apart from those that trained. "I'm Ranma Castiglione, hello. Pleased to meet you. I hope we'll become fine friends." She shied away from his offered hand, so he just bowed respectfully before her, giving her respect that she seemingly hadn't expected. "Where are you from? I wasn't aware Mister Castiglione had a son."

"Japan, actually. We met in America a few years ago, he bailed me out of a bad spot when my real father had disappeared. I owe him my life." She seemed to squeal at the thought, Ranma noticing that she seemed to have gained flushed cheeks. "Ohmigod, that's so romantic, Mister Castiglione rescuing you and all that. It's like my favorite comic books! You've got to see them Ranma." And he found himself pulled along, Frank giving what could be accurately sounding as a chuckle. Before the door to Sharon's parent's apartment closed, Ranma got a good look at the other doors, paint chipping off at some of them. "Mom! I brought Mister Castiglione's son and i'm taking him to my room to show him my collection!" Ranma followed at a sedate pace, the girl moving aside some stuff, whilst babbling about a comic book issue in which some Bat-boy or whatever whacked up some Jokers. "So, do you know martial arts?"

The question was expected, Ranma looking at Sharon for a moment before nodding. "I've studied some styles, yes." Her eyes seemed to glow, as she began to babble about styles she'd seen in kung fu movies, asking him whether he knew Drunken Fist or something inane like that. "It's best to show you, I suppose. The life of a martial artist is fraught with peril, after all. Do you have a banana?" a banana was fetched posthaste, the banana laying in his hand for a moment and Ranma focused his energy for a moment, his hand beginning to glow with his ki, the energy slicing through the banana easily enough.

"Open it up." There was no argument in his voice as he watched Sharon's eyes be wide and she picked up the banana, slowly peeling it, the slices almost falling out. "Wow, you cut it with that glowing energy? Why can't I do that?" Ranma looked seriously at her."You'd have to be training since you can walk and have special instruction in how to manipulate your body's natural energy. It's not a skill many people can develop, I'm something of a prodigy, or so I've heard." Twenty minutes and two more sliced bananas later, he left the apartment, Sharon's mother Alice giving him another big plate of cookies to share with his father, along with the best wishes. They'd found him to be a sweet man, Ranma picked up by listening with just a bit of ki to his ears and a good influence on that 'poor mister Castiglione' who worked late. Ranma knew better of course, as he closed the door, the trip-mine that was placed against the wall being de-activated by Frank moments after the bell had rang. "Cookies, nice. The Jensens are nice people. Good people too."

And so, the first night of the Punisher and his son in America started, the kevlar vests being worn, the familiar skull motif emblazoned upon it and criminals to be punished.

*/*

Okay, a chapter out for you all to enjoy, well, I hope you did, because otherwise, my efforts would be wasted. Don't make me waste my efforts, okay?

If it's not dark enough yet, it'll be getting much darker the next chapter. Occasional superhero visitations will be coming in every now and then, but you have to keep in mind that in the main Marvel universe, Frank Castle AKA the Punisher, is one of the people most superheroes avoid, due to being a crafty son of a bitch, to quote Wolverine apparently. Even if you look at his ratings, there's a good reason why he's to the max with fighting ability.

Btw, still looking for a beta. If you're interested in getting a free preview of my work, and ensuring i can work on more, sign up, would ya? A mail is just a click away ^^

Punisher for the win!


	5. New schools

Punishment Due

Disclaimer: I don't own the Punisher or Ranma ½. I Stand corrected however with that there are some martial artists that use Ki within the marvel universe, which I do apologize. I've only read most of the Punisher comics, so I've got little idea on what's what and who's who. Sure, I know most of the X-men and women and the like, but my knowledge is far from encyclopedic. A factor in that is too, that i don't live in America, where comics are probably a bit more accessible than in my own country. You can't believe how long i had to search before i finally found myself an issue of the Punisher that wasn't on-line downloadable.

*/*

**New schools**

*/*

Ranma stared at the door that held the principal of the school he'd be attending. The surrounding blocks were packed tightly together, giving him the idea that they were going to swallow him whole, a feeling he'd never felt in Nerima, where there wasn't that much high-altitude building, due to the martial artists in the area, he supposed.

"Enter." The voice that spoke was soft and feminine, sounding older than Mr Tendo and his ex-father. He opened the door softly, politely stepping inside and seeing the interior. "Mister Castiglione, you were entered into our fine school by wish of your father. I understand that you may have some trouble adjusting, as he mentioned you'd just come from Japan, which has different cultural values." The principal was a woman in her late fifties, graying hair falling slightly in her face as she sat seated at her desk, her eyes regarding him with interest. "Classes will be no problem, right Mister Castiglione? Your father impressed upon me that you have a good grasp on English, so speak." The command made him pause for a moment, before opening his mouth. "It is respectful to allow a teacher to finish his sentences, and not speak unless given permission to. My English is passable, according to my teacher, Nonamiya-sensei." The woman nodded, getting up and retrieving a file from an ordinary cabinet to the side of the room. "Here it says you've got a special condition, could you care to explain? It's written in Japanese, which isn't one of the languages I studied, I'm afraid."

"I change from a boy into a girl with cold water and transform back with hot water. It's a curse that I've picked up in China." Ranma said that without emotion, watching a curious look come on the principal's face, who nodded a few times as if trying to process it. "Supposedly with all the superheroes running around, a curse to change someone from male to female isn't all that strange." She muttered, looking around for something, before she went to a water dispenser that Ranma hadn't noticed yet. "Can I?" He nodded, the splash of water making him feel uncomfortable, as his features shifted. His clothing was baggy, which accommodated the change pretty well, though the pain and annoyance from changing was pretty much the same. "Amazing. It's a complete physical change?" Ranma nodded, the principal sighing a little bit. "Are there any special accomodations that you'd prefer? I can arrange for a separate shower, should you feel uncomfortable showering with boys." Ranma shook his head slightly, looking the woman deep into the eyes. "I'm a martial artist, I can defend myself if I have to."

"Even the greatest martial artist can still be overpowered by young hormonal men." the Principal said, a shadow falling over her face, as a chill went through the room, before a sunny smile appeared on her face once again. "So, other than martial arts, do you have any other oddities? We here at Orville High School are accepting of mutants, as opposed to other schools that actively ban them from attending." Ranma gave a bit of a sour smile. "Not surprising for a school that's called Mafia High School." The principal stiffened a little, as the smile on her face faded a little. "That is none of your concern. No mutations, then." Ranma rose, watching as she put the file back in the cabinet. "If I may respectfully inquire as to your name, Principal-san?" The woman looked up. "You may call me Principal." He smirked at that, the woman giving a grin back. "Well, off you trot then, you're in class 2-C. I'll write a note for you to give to your teacher explaining your presence."

Three minutes later, he stood outside the office, looking at the walls of the school, noticing lockers standing against the wall. Within them, he could feel cold metal, some of them holding guns, the teenagers that stood close to them watching him with a wary eye. He started to walk, towards his class, the note clutched within his hand. The door that led to his classroom was made out of oak-wood if he remembered it right enough, a small plaque with 2-C emblazoned on the wall next to it.

He knocked three times, politely waiting for the door to be opened, a teacher who seemed to be a ball of nervous energy looking at him for a moment, before cringing. "Y-yes? Who m-m-might you be?" Ranma bowed slightly, giving the man the respect he'd needed, along with putting him at ease a little bit. "I'm a new student, the Principal wrote me a note." The teacher grabbed it out of his hand, reading it with quivering fingers, his eyes going to Ranma, especially to his feminine attributes. "It says here that you're a boy." Ranma gave a most apologetic smile to the man. "I'm cursed." The man nodded, stepping to the side for a moment and allowing him entrance to the classroom.

"Class, we have a new student starting here today. His name is Ranma Castiglione and he'll be attending our school until he graduates." Wolf whistles went out as Ranma stood in front of the class, twirling a lock of his red hair with a finger. "Show me your tits baby! I know ya want to!' A black teenager in the back said, before being jabbed in the side by another one, who hissed something at him, the first one silenced almost immediately.

"For the record, I am a man. I simply look like a girl because I was cursed by something that's not really explainable." The class showed little surprise at that, possibly because it was apparently common. "What you some kinda mutie? You come here an think it's all normal, changing into a woman?" An Asian kid in the back spoke, Ranma giving his best glare at him. "Don't judge before you know me."

"You some kinda half-breed then with that Jap first name and an Italian surname then." Came the reply, Ranma feeling a very sharp sense of irritation well up within him, as he looked at the rest of the class, noticing several aura's that spoke volumes about the general status of them. The confidence and assurance that they radiated was really identifying about them. Currently, all of them weren't that interested in him, one of them being the one who'd jabbed the black teenager in the side.

"T-take your s-s-seat, Mister Castiglione, we are having English class right now." Ranma looked at the teacher and bowed respectfully again, before going to one of the empty seats, a suspicious red stain being all over the desk, despite showing marks of scrubbing. The people around him were a mix of different cultures, different races too. On his left, there sat a girl whose heritage spoke of Creole ancestry, small beads worked into her hair, with a hidden gun within her left pants pocket, which made just a small bulge that his eyes noticed.

To his right, there sat a boy whose pale features and blonde hair marked him someone of Nordic ancestry, a few zits and other marks of puberty visible, who was totally uninterested within anything that was being said in class, no weapon on him, but Ranma had an inkling of a feeling that there was something strange about him.

In front of him sat a girl who'd obviously placed a lot of care within her hair, the scent of white lilies wafting off it, the well-tailored clothing along with a vague hint of italian within her voice, an accent he'd been taught to identify by Frank over the course of the plane flight, as nothing else would make the boredom of a twelve hour flight go away. Her aura spoke of confidence and assurance that she was in control of things, which marked her as one of the leaders of the various groups within this class.

He didn't make a mistake, as he knew beforehand that there were a lot of teenage gangs in the area, with most of their leaders going to school to either study for their further life in crime, or to run distribution in the schoolyard. That this girl was so well-cared for, only marked her as someone connected to one of the mafia families of the city, the ones that hadn't been exterminated yet by the Punisher.

_

* * *

Punisher's War__ Journal, 8__th__ of June 19X_

_Ranma's gone to school, waiting for him to give his report. Started cleaning my weapons to pass the time. Going to do some light exercise before preparing some food for the heavier part. Five-hundred sit-ups ought to do it, maybe should increase weight a bit._

_Ranma's a fast learner, got to hand him that. He picked up on the intricacies of several Italian traces of speech that are usually used, based on my experience with them. The Gnucci's usually speak with a thicker accent, coming from Little Italy, but it's different with all of them._

_Let's see if I still got that fifty-kilo training vest around..._

* * *

Ranma supposed that there were some gang leaders in his class. The fact that there was a black youth speaking with another one about 'a deal' and then being replied to with some talk about sending the shipment out in the morning. It all reeked to him of crime, his gaze visibly chilling as he began to formulate plans on how to get this done and over with.

Behind him sat another girl, who seemed to be intent on harassing him, throwing little balls of paper against his neck, his hands wishing to just grasp them out of the air, but he wasn't going to ruin his first day in school by giving people a show that he was a lot stronger than them. He turned around pointedly, looking at the girl, who seemed to be Caucasian, her hair being a bit curly and an insolent look on her face. "Got your attention, didn't I?" The way with which she spoke gave him the shivers, as it reminded him of his fiance's.

"Want to... go over notes after class?" She stared at the redheaded girl seated in front of her, who was seemingly confused by the offer, as she made a confused face. "Just for some... notes." It was adorable, she noted, to see her flush a little, despite insistence that she was a boy. No mutants could shift from male to female, she thought and he didn't really come across as one. Not that she was the authority on mutants, mind you, she just liked women. And she liked the new one.

"Sure, I guess." He muttered, looking at the girl, who still hadn't said her name. "The name's Ranma Castiglione." He extended his hand a little, looking at the girl and then watching as she did the same. "Isabella Kerr. Pleased to meet you, hot stuff." She winked at him, making him feel a bit uncomfortable. "I'm a man, really." She nodded, seemingly not believing him. Perhaps she was trying just hard to get, she figured.

"Mr Castiglione, if you'd care to read the sentence on the board and explain to the class just what it means and what you think it means?" The teacher called on him, his attention pushed towards the board and he saw the sentence:

_Great men think, beasts do not._

He looked at the sentence for a few seconds, letting it churn into his brain mass, before thinking about it. It would be true that men think, but what would make them great? What is to say that beasts do not think? He's fought enough talking animals to prove otherwise, but that was not the subject. Also, what would make a man great? What would be the achievement for making such a feat, what would make it all right? In his mind, only his father was great, for he actually went out and did something against crime, instead of being useless, much like the JSDF.

"Come on, Mr. Castiglione, we don't have all day." He rose, looking at the man and nodded, more to himself. "The sentence is about the fact that humans think, and we suppose beasts do not. If I look at it with a cultural aspect, I suppose that perhaps, the meaning of the sentence is to give faith to the belief that an animal cannot think." He paused for a moment, looking at the teacher, who nodded. "Very good, Mister Castiglione. Could you elaborate further?" He waited a moment, before looking hard at the sentence. "If one thinks that beasts are ignorant, you would be wrong. It is hard to say that they are ignorant, for they take in the same amount of data that our senses supply us, perhaps even more. It would be better to write that 'man thinks, beasts sometimes do not." He took a deep breath, looking at the teacher, who nodded, seemingly accepting the answer. "Very good Mr. Castiglione. Now class, as Mr. Castiglione has disassembled the sentence, would you like to cast your verdict?"

"Good one." Isabella muttered, Ranma giving her a grin. "I just said what I thought was appropriate, nothing really conclusive." He survived English class without being called upon to speak, noting down things in a small notebook, his eyes going to the other people in his class. The Italian-esque girl seemed to be busy filing her nails, devoting her attention to that, even as the pale kid seemed to be intent on getting his books back in his bag, a sudden flash of something making Ranma blink and look twice, but nothing out of the ordinary was seen, as the teenager seemed to be intent on getting back to his school.

"You, the new girl." He paused for a moment, looking at the person calling his name. He was a black youth, false golden teeth blinking within his mouth every time he opened it, walking towards her with a swagger, which looked, to her trained eyes, like a drunken ape's walk. Within his pockets, she could see a gun, not even hidden besides being in the pocket. "How bout you n me go and have a little bit of fun for the next hour or so? I'll show ya the sites." He grinned, giving Ranma an eyeful of the golden teeth, making her sigh deeply. "I'm not interested in seeing everything, I believe that I can find my way perfectly fine." The young man looked put out, his posture changing from somewhat friendly to threatening. "Lissen yo asian bitch, der's rules in dis place. You girls belong to Ter's gang!"

Ranma merely looked at the teenager and sighed. "I don't belong to anyone." She could feel Isabella tugging at his arms, whispering to stop talking and just go with the flow, but she would not relent. Giving her best glare, she pushed the teenager away, the force she applied making him stumble back, clearly stronger than he'd expected. She walked away at a brisk pace, shaking her head lightly. As she walked through the hallways, she had almost expected him to come after her, shouting, but she did not hear anything of the sort, busy students walking past her without giving her another glance, maybe a curious one, but that was it.

"That was so assertive, oh my god, you've got to come to the mall with me once, we can get you so many pretty clothes." Isabella was at her side again, even as she went to her next class, Geography or something, she was not paying attention a lot, some boring countries and their history came by, her attention sagging. Slowly, she could feel her head going down, as a sleepiness seemed to crash over her like a wave, her eyes closing, her head hitting the desk without anything to stop it.

Something prodded her side, Isabella standing next to her with a bag in her hand, clearly ready to go. "Wake up, we've got PE now." She got up, not having a bag for the required materials yet, as she did not have time to do much more than just get up and follow.

"This is so lame! Why do the boys get to do basketball and we're stuck doing simple aerobics?" One girl Ranma did not know yet, complained vocally. She did not seem to be too keen to voice those protest, quieting as the PE instructor came round. "Is there a problem, miss Jennings?" She shook her head. "No Coach." The coach was a man in his late fourties, a stubbly beard growing on his chin, a wily moustache being grown upon his upper lip. Black hair, slowly turning grey grew upon his head, a cap hiding the most of it, looking at the girls assembled. "Okay young ladies, you're going to be doing Aerobics." There was a collective groan, Ranma's hand rising in the air. "I'm a guy, even though I look like this."

"Cheeky, aren't we?" The Coach spoke, looking at Ranma with a disapproving look. "You look enough like a girl to me, girlie. You must be that new student, Castiglione, right?" Ranma nodded, frowning lightly. "I'll keep my eye on you, girl. Rebellious attitudes such as yours, should be kept under close watch." Ranma did not like the way the man spoke, nor the way he looked at her. As she was currently female, she could understand, logically, that there would be some objection to not placing her in the male group, but she was a guy, even though she looked like this.

* * *

The PE lesson went smoothly, Ranma almost missing the rhythmic gymnastics of Kodachi, who always seemed to give another sadistic twist, or mad gamble every time they fought, as the red-headed girl, or whenever she was in her male form. As they went for the showers, the coach held her back for a moment. "None of the sassy attitude anymore in my class, got it? If you're really a guy, as you claim, why don't you prove it?" His posture was threatening, clearly not liking Ranma's attitude. "One moment then." She muttered, making her way into the girl's dressing room, passing several of her classmates, most of which were already completely naked.

"First, strip." She muttered, pulling her clothes off, most of it being in a pile next to her in a flash. The next moment, she walked into the showering parts, the heat of the hot water washing over her body. "Look at her, that's a great body!" Isabella said, exclaiming it loud enough for most people to give her the once over, Ranma seeing some jealous looks and sighing. "That showerhead, is it free?"

Isabella nodded, Ranma turning the knobs to make the hot water come out. "By the way, I'm a guy." She could feel cold water wash over her body, the water needing to be heated a little, the temperature generally increasing, the sensation of pain washing over him as he could feel himself becoming a man again, his body feeling sensitive now, as his genitals grew out once again, making him feel a little sting.

The only sounds around him were the clattering of water, as he ran a hand through his wet hair, opening his eyes and reaching for his towel, grabbing it and moving it around his waist, before turning to the girls and looking at them, their reactions ranging from extreme shock to incomprehension. "I told you I was a man." With that, he walked out of the shower, leaving a very silent group of girls there, who had watched the red-head turn into a dark-haired young man. One of the first to recover was the Italian girl, who merely shook her head, muttering something about seeing things.

"Convinced now?" He asked the coach, who nodded, a small twinge of annoyance passing over his face. "Sure kid. I don't know how you've done that, but you're not fooling around with any of the women there anymore." Ranma gave the man a stare, not really wanting to know just what the man understood as fooling around with women. "Sure." He muttered. "Just let me get some suitable clothes and I'll be in the boy's locker room from now on."

"You've got some fine muscles there, kid." The coach remarked, as Ranma stretched lightly, his clothes on within a flash, giving the coach a bored look. "Not going to join any clubs, I'm sorry." The coach shook his head a little, looking at Ranma's muscular physique, noticing several scars. "Pity, you could be a major player in any sport you wanted, you've got the muscles for Football and other athletics." Ranma nodded. "I practice martial arts." The coach nodded, his face turning quite serious. "You are not going to behave like that kapoeeeraa teacher or whatchamaycallit?"

"A what? I never learned that style." The coach nodded. "Fine, I'll make sure that you're getting rostered in as a boy then. Your first name's quite unfamiliar here in the states, care to tell me what it means?" Ranma grinned, the man looking to be not so bad. "Wild Horse."

As he sat down in class again, he was met by surprised looks, his faces carefully schooled to avoid making his thoughts known, as he sized the people up, who were now looking at him with wary eyes. "So he was a guy after all." One of the classmates muttered, Ranma sending him a look, the youth shutting up immediately. The rest of the hour was spent with their music teacher trying in vain to encourage the class to just pick up an instrument and play, Ranma working with the man to try his best, having to really focus not to apply too much strength to the rather frail, in his opinion, instruments. After a screeching solo on a violin, the music teacher smiled and handed him a flute. "Try and see what you can get from that, Mister Castiglione. I am pleased to see that you are at least willing to try." The last part was whispered, the man having graduated as a music teacher only a few years ago and this was his second year teaching, Ranma having respect for the man for just trying.

"No problem, teacher." He had to stop himself from calling the teachers sensei, as was customary with the Japanese system, along with how he'd been taught martial arts, to always respect the sensei. He put the flute to his lips and tried to coach some notes from it, the sound not unlike a dull blowing coming out of it. he frowned a little and tried again, succeeding on making a rough sound coming out, sounding as if he'd pound a drum. "Try to do it a little more gently, wet your lips a bit."

Soon, he had a much clearer note, after some trying. Isabella came to him and adjusted his grip a little, moving his fingers, clearly having a bit more expertise with this. "Okay, now try adjusting it." There was a small twinge within his hands, as he began to blow. "That's good, try something out." He calmed himself, for excitement might cause him to mess up, which he didn't want.

"Class dismissed." The teacher said, as the time had come, Ranma placing the flute on the table reverently, not wishing to make it break if he treated it roughly. "You surprise me, Mister Castiglione." Ranma waited for the man to come over, the man's eyes displaying something that could be taken for respect. "It is not often one with such a… figure, as you, displays such skill in the musical arts." Ranma wasn't sure whether to be offended or not, his eyes looking anywhere but the teacher, feeling uncomfortable with the subject. "I was… taught, to not practice music, because it would be seen as feminine." He picked his words carefully, the teacher nodding, taking a seat at the desk, looking at Ranma with a very interested look. "If you hadn't noticed before, within your class there are some very… influential people." The teacher paused for a moment, before deciding what to say. "There's gangs, alright, but you don't seem the type to join them, not inclined, I'd say."

"That is a very odd accusation to make, Teacher." Ranma studied the man, looking at his youthful face, which seemed to have a warm look on it. "I know, I know… I was once in a gang myself, or rather… a cult." Here the man paused and contemplated something. "After meeting a special man, who taught me so much, I saw the error in my ways, how I had been doing naught but ill for the world." The man spread his arms as he looked up, inhaling deeply. "But where are my manners. I have not introduced myself properly yet. My name is Samuel Smith." He bowed lightly, a bit stiffly, Ranma doing the same. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mister Smith." The man smiled and began to clear the room up a bit, putting the instruments back in their watched him for a moment, until the man turned to him. "You ought to go to your next class, Mister Castiglione. However, I do appreciate your company in my next class." Ranma nodded, before walking out the door, hoping he'd find his next class. The music teacher sighed deeply, looking at the violin and then put it in the box, the strings making a soft tone. "It's good to see such a good kid."

"So, can I come home with you?" Isabella asked, looking at Ranma with a look that basically said that if he didn't invite her, there'd be trouble. "No." He kept his answer short, looking to the side and then began his breathing exercises whilst he walked, to keep his calm and collected mindset. An ancient master in Tibet had taught him it once and he'd never forget the man's face as he spoke the words that helped to calm him. "There are no silly questions, there are only silly answers."He could think about how the war on crime would be going, how his own efforts could be used to make sure that there'd be less criminal scum mucking up the streets, but if he would find something that would do the same job, he might…

He cut out of that path of thought as he paid attention to his surroundings, something making his senses scream at him, something passing over, a hush falling over the people, as mutterings about a spider man were heard, Ranma looking at the rapidly disappearing figure, leaving behind strands which looked much like spider webbing. He shivered for a moment, the image of a spider-humanoid with eight arms and a horrid maw passing through his head for a second.

"I'm home." He said as he entered the house, the key fitting to the lock like it should, the sound of a gun being put on safety heard through the room. "Had a nice day at school kid?" The Punisher growled, looking up from his work, a map with several buildings marked with little X marks on them in front of him. "The school's populated by gangs and hoodlums. Guess you sent me there for a reason?" Frank Castle looked up from his work, his eyes looking straight at Ranma's and a grin settled on the man's face. "Practise."

Ranma nodded, understanding the word and the meaning. He sat down in a chair, pulling out one of the guns that were displayed, cleaned and otherwise not being operated upon, holding it in his hands for a moment before sighing to himself and getting up slowly, his eyes looking at it and he placed it back where it had come from, clearing a small space for him before he began to do his kata's, his body moving in the practiced way he'd learnt over the year, gracefully kicking, punching and twisting his body. To any artist, he would be a sculpted beauty, a monument to how honed a man's body could become, but to him, he was one with his art, the movements of his body only showing him that there would be a better way for him to spend his time. His body did not yearn to be a piece of art, it yearned to be a piece of war, to endure the stress of combat, even as his movements did not let up, his hands moving in the patterns that he had learned over the years, his eyes moving towards the man in the chair, whose gaze was fixed upon the gun he was preparing.

"Tonight, we're going out. We're hitting the Scuzzi family in Brooklyn, be ready by 20:00." There was no tone in his voice that did not scream vengeance and Ranma for a brief second, could see the ki of the man who he had taken as his idol, the shimmer of blood red mixed with what seemed to be a deep black color shining to his eyes, even as a white mass in the centre seemed to take the form of a skull.

"Yes, sir." He said clearly, the Punisher giving him a look of what could be acceptance. "You'll do well kid. I've got faith in you." Ranma nodded, looking at the man and bowing respectfully before him, as one should do towards their betters. He had no doubts that this man, Frank Castle, was above all one of the alpha predators within the world, a belief that he would take to the grave if need be.

But now, it would be time for some punishment.

*/*

Sorry about the massive delay, real life caught up to me. If there's spelling errors and what-not, that's because I don't have a beta reader, which is kind of crappy, but hey, I've got a busy life so I can't afford time to hire one or politely ask one. Hope you've enjoyed your new chapter of Punishment due, and to answer some reviewers, well, here's a go.

It's set probably post-Saffron, hence why Ranma's powers are a bit boosted and well, If he really wanted to, he could likely give Spider Man a run for his money, if not by the adaptability. If we look at the Punisher in both the MAX universe as in the mainstream universe… the guy's basically a normal guy with great training, but he's built like a damn terminator! His abilities to fight with weaponry are really great, and you don't have to realize the implications that if someone like Frank Castle, who is a bit less on the sane side, decided to really go after superheroes… well, let's just say that Daredevil has fought him a few times and that Frank can keep up.

Also, for Ranma's development, I've mainly imagined him to be a martial artist, so just using the tools available to him, in other words, his body and abilities would fit. Also, if he applied his strength to other means, he could be creative.

Also, as someone pointed out there being a bit of weakness, along with the pain by the transformation. My stance on that for this story is, that it's harder for someone to change genders than it is for someone to assume an animal form. If you change to an animal, your body would need to adapt to the different body, learn a whole new sense and the like, it'd be able to blot out pain easily and just make it so. If you turned into another gender, you'd essentially remain your own species, with no ability to just wish the pain away, as your body changes. I may change my stance on it, but this is how it looks people.

Thanks for reading.

Demon God of Chaos signing out.


	6. Police 'Brutality'

**Punishment Due**

Disclaimer: I disclaim owning the Punisher or Ranma. Now, let's get the brutality ON!

*/*

**Police 'brutality'**

*/*

"Miss Overbeck, if you'd please pay attention to the lecture, we're trying to learn something about vigilante's here, unless you'd care to give your opinion on them?" She snapped to attention, a blush rising to her face as she began to look at the screen, the word VIGILANTE boldly stated there. "Yeah, eh… Vigilante's are not good people who take the law in their own hands." The teacher nodded, a demeaning grin coming on his face. "Could you also explain to the class why they act?" She looked around helplessly, not being overly prepared for the sudden amount of questioning, having been working on compiling notes for her other finishing projects. She was about to graduate from police school and she had a few more things to do.

"If everyone would please look at the screen and allow me to start this lecture, we can all leave quickly…" The teacher clicked his clicking device, the next slide showing a picture of a shoot-out. Horribly mutilated bodies lay on the street, bullets having gone through the body parts and made "This is carnage wrought by the vigilante known as Dynamyte Sam, or Samuel Westle. He used to employ explosives to weaken the foundations of a building, or a car bomb to wipe out select members of organized crime, his hatred for them stemming from being denied to make a living along with the failed mob hit on his life. His wife and children do not wish to have anything more to do with him, along with serving life in Sing-Sing for his vigilante acts." The man inhaled briefly, looking at the screen before calling up a picture of an average man, brown hair atop his head, looking to be in his mid-thirties, scars from surgery on his left cheek, looking into the camera with dark green eyes set in a defiant way. "This is Samuel Westle after his arrest. With vigilantes, you must always remember that the public may endorse them. Furthermore, always be careful when dealing with their arrest, as they may just carry something to get themselves free." The teacher called up another slide.

"Then we have the sociopathic vigilante." He called up a video, which looked like a camera feed. A man stood there, waiting for something to arrive when a car drove up, the window sliding down and a gun sticking from the window, a few shots coming from the gun, the man dropping like a sack of potatoes, the car screeching away. "The shots hit innocent bystanders. When the vigilante was apprehended, he expressed no regret, saying it to be a necessary sacrifice." The teacher paused for a moment, looking at the students. "I trust that if you see such a vigilante, that you will do the right thing." What that was, was left unspoken and the teacher went on about different archetypes of vigilantes and delved lightly within methods to apprehend them, having a few slides with apprehension methods stowed away. The training they'd all received would do it's job though, even if they did not heed the slides or his advice, he mused lightly as he came to the last pair of slides.

"Now, we come to one of the more famous vigilante's. Class, pay very close attention now." The button was pressed and the next slide slid into view, a black background with a white skull emblazoned within it in the middle, staring at the class with empty eye sockets. "The Punisher."

She could see the skull and felt a strange sensation come over her, a small sliver of fear working its way into her heart, as she heard the teacher describe the Punisher to the class. "The Punisher, known as Frank Castle, is a vigilante whose name you no doubt will have heard, and a great deal of you will likely emphasize with his mission, to kill off all crime." A dramatic pause for a moment, as the man looked at the class. "If you see him, be aware that he does hold to a no killing innocents rule, and that means that he'll likely make you feel worse than ever, but not likely to cause permanent damage." The man looked at the class, as one of the students felt like it was their time to make a joke, something about 'capturing the punisher being easy as pie'. "Mister Bradden, let me remind you that the Punisher has evaded capture for longer than you've been studying to be a cop. Even if we had all the forces at our disposal, we must take into account that this man likely came prepared."

"A word with you, if that's possible, Miss Overbeck." The teacher called her up, looking at her face for a moment before giving her a look that was somewhat warmer than the frozen tundra in siberia. "For your disturbance earlier, I will give you an assignment. You are to compile a three page report on the Punisher, to be handed in tomorrow before your class with me." She sighed. "Yes Mister Greene, it'll be on your desk before class starts, I promise." She knew already that this would be a hard job, even as she grabbed her bag and began to walk out of the school building, going towards her dorm to get her stuff for her daily exercises.

"Jenny!" The voice of her teacher pulled her from her thoughts as she looked at the training dummy in front of her, before striking it a few times with her fists, the rather crudely fashioned dummy bouncing back a little, her hands feeling a bit raw from the force she'd put into the punch, she'd much rather have done something a bit lighter, but right now, she felt a bit frustrated, the extra work clearly not being what she expected, having thought most of her afternoon clear to practice. "You're not focused, girl. Now, focus and look at the dummy." Her teacher, a small, balding man named John Stripe, taught her how to fight, using a style of martial arts that he only referred to as 'the old chop and drop'. Formally, she didn't think it even had that name, but she did so dutifully, her movements shaped by the man into what she assumed, to be a graceful and elegant dance.

"Very good, very good, now copy my movements." His hands moved a little, as he took his place in front of the dummy, before his hands blurred, her eyes struggling to catch up, watching as fingers lightly touched the dummy and left long gauges within the material, foam flying in the air as her teacher's movements stopped, his hands at his side again. "That, is the power you should be bringing to bear, deshi." She was stunned, watching the dummy with wide eyes, as she looked at her teacher again, who brushed past her. "Oh, and do replace the dummy, there's one in the supply closet." She did as she was told, her excitement peaking right there and then, but she knew that she should focus and hone her energy, to write that paper on the Punisher.

"Would Miss Overbeck please come forward?" She bounded forward, looking at her teachers, assembled to the side, in police uniforms, looking all strict and law-abiding, smiling broadly as she picked her friends and family out of the crowd, getting handed her badge and other paraphelia along with the best wishes in her chosen career. "Thank you so much for teaching me, oh my god, I can't tell how much I liked our classes." Her teachers gave her a grin that really didn't reach their eyes and she was shushed off the stage, the next graduate coming up.

"Wake up Jenny, you're going out on patrol with me." She was tapped lightly on the shoulder and she shook away, her eyes widening as she looked at the man who'd awoken her. "Oh Mr. Henders, is it time already?" The man nodded, looking at the young cop for a moment and then watching as she got up and straightened herself out, her eyes still looking a bit blurry. "On your feet girl, we've got to be in our patrol car in five or we'll get the chief to personally single us out for overtime." There was a somewhat teasing hint in the older man's voice, even as she hurried, putting her outfit in the right positions, her eyes looking at the man and nodding, even to herself, her eyes looking straight at the wall, where some wanted posters hung, mainly of villains who would be able to be handled by the PD instead of the superhero community.

Names like Sensual Samantha and Ugly Jim stuck out, along with a physical description and an indication of their danger, sometimes a jailtime mugshot or some other identifying photograph hanging there. She looked at it for a moment, before grabbing her coat and beginning to walk towards the entrance, her mind already on what she'd be eating after work tonight. "I'll drive today Jenny. You've obviously not had enough sleep, so you'd better rest up a little." She nodded, grateful, having not had much sleep due to the neighbour's cat yowling at three in the morning, her next shift starting that morning and not having had a lot of sleep, she was still drowsy.

"I'll put on the radio, you relax now, you hear me?" There was an indulgent tone in the older man's voice, even as he stroked his white moustache, his eyes briefly going over her form, finding that she'd already slumped down into the seat, her chest rising and falling gently. "Guess she was tired." He switched on the radio, keeping a careful look at the police radio and then putting it on the 'interrupt when hailed' button, the small beep of confirmation coming through like it were just an additional additive to the song. "Good old country music." The man muttered, as he drove carefully, slowing down to just a few miles below the speed limit, glancing at the passerby's, some of them clearly taking a step away, the man's eyes lingering on them for a moment before he'd passed them by.

* * *

This was not a good day to be a mobster, he thought. The first thing that'd clued him in to things going south way fast was the sound of something heavy smashing to the ground, before the gunfire started. Moments later, the sound of screams of fear, rage and downright terror began to sound. Cries of 'The Punisher is here!' were silenced suddenly, the gunfire never lessening.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god, pick up the phone, would ya woman?" he said, speaking rushed as he dialed the number again, his hands shaking, waiting for it to go, the beeping only adding to his tension. "Come on, come on! Pick up the phone, you cow woman." A click sounded and a sleepy female voice came over the speak. "This is Hebrah Joletti speaking." He wasted no words. "I love you Hebrah." That was all he could say, before something hit him in the stomach hard, the air in front of him filled with something that looked to be human, blood spilling from his mouth like he'd vomited, the sanguine liquid splashing over the attacker's shirt, a white, bleached skull visible there. "Spare me." He groaned, through the blood that came from the attack at his stomach. His lungs screamed for air, as the blood began to run into them, making him gargle, the sound being horrid, even to his own eyes.

"No." The attacker said, the sound of his voice betraying no emotion, as if he were a machine. He gazed up, watched the shirt fade away to an unscarred neck, asian features upon a head which seemed to fit him, but the eyes… they were the scariest eyes he'd ever seen. He'd seen many eyes in his lifetime, watching them close with fear was likely the most he ever saw, whenever they had to do the boss's dirty work, but still… these eyes were special. The eyes conveyed with a single look, the hatred that this man, this… punisher, had for people like him. The next blow struck him in the chest, watching as a slender, not so muscled arm punched straight through his chest, his ribs having shattered by the impact. Watching as the stranger who was clearly about to kill him, pulled out a rib, the searing pain that shot through him distracting him for a moment, until he could feel himself unable to take another breath, grasping the man's body in a futile gesture. His last view would be a boot that'd descend down upon his head.

* * *

Ranma took no pleasure in this, watching as the man he'd just killed twitched a little, his eyes only holding contempt for the man, the phone which the man had dropped still going on, the woman cursing the dead man. He picked up the phone and pushed the off button, the call being cancelled and the telephone shutting down, before crushing it, the parts turning to dust in his hand with a mere application of his ki.

"Time to bust some skulls." He muttered as he began to re-engage the umi-senken, his hands twisting a little to give him just a little added boost, the technique being quite useful when engaging people in hand-to-hand, not that many had no gun on them. He glanced around a little, walking through the room, the drugs stacked almost waist-high, in neat stacks that would be due for transport, his mouth setting in a grim smile.

He grabbed one of the burners that were in the room and then looked around for something that would be flammable, his eyes falling upon an old paper that had clearly been used to make sure the ground didn't get filthy. Grinning a little and picking it up, a few vials crashing to the ground and releasing their contents as he shifted the paper, the scent of chemicals assaulting his nose and making him feel a sudden urge to just put everything on fire.

Moments later, he could feel it, the fire welling up inside him, a small glow encompassing the burner and it exploded, sending shards and flame towards him. His eyes widened and he thrust his body back, the shards being evaded as his natural habits of dodging things kicked in, the flames scorching his shirt lightly but causing no permanent damage. His eyes looked at the destroyed remnants and he shook his head. "Gotta control that rage of mine." He chuckled lightly as he began to bunch up the paper, using a small amount of ki to set it ablaze, before tossing it at the drugs, his eyes glowing lightly, as the ki-burning paper hit the drugs. Fire seemed to lick at the drugs, which became ablaze moments later, the whooshing sound of the drugs suddenly igniting being music to his ears.

"Freeze there, you motherfucker! You put fire to the drugs, you cocksucker." He could feel iron against the back of his head, the barrel of a gun resting against it. His senses picked up the owner of the gun, standing close behind him, clearly radiating an aura of anger and superiority, having thought that he'd get the drop on one of the Punishers. "Now turn around fucker and drop your guns." Ranma turned around slowly, the man coming into view, black skin and brown eyes stating at him, the man looking like a dog had taken a good bite out of him.

"I don't have any guns." Ranma said, looking at the man, who nodded faintly, his eyes looking straight at the belt Ranma wore, clearly not thinking about Ranma's words. "Ain't the punisher shooting up everyone? Drop yer guns and perhaps, I'll kill you swiftly." Ranma wasted no time and kicked the man in the chest, a bullet lightly grazing his cheek, Ranma watching the man hit the wall and go straight through it. He placed a hand against his cheek, touching it lightly and then seeing a crimson stain on it, blood clinging to his hand and he swore softly in Japanese. "I've got to stop gloating and get to work."

He looked up, seeing no movement through the hole or the door hole, sighed lightly and then began to walk out of the room, leaving the burning drugs there, hearing the gunshots turn fewer, as screams and other sounds seemed to dull.

Getting in had been easy, he'd just lifted a dumpster and thrown it straight through a wall. After which the Punisher stormed in, guns blazing. He shrouded himself within the umi-senken, walking through the space without a problem, as he's not visible to anyone but someone trained in ki manipulations, stopping before a rat of a man, giving him his best death glare, even as he spoke about loving someone.

A jab of his hand and the man's stomach had been wounded, blood coming out of his mouth, which he actually found a good thing. Seeing them bleed always made him remember that first time that he himself had bled, the memory not being a good one. He'd bled when he'd fought Saffron, hiding his wounds from the others to allow himself to recuperate a little without them worrying too much. He had been so certain that he never wished to bleed from internal injuries again, that he'd immediately sought out professional help once they'd returned to Japan, the wedding being a week or so later.

Marrying someone wouldn't have been a wise choice, he reflected, as he had not entered a new page in his book of life, a new page that could be written any way he wanted. He'd cut ties with Nerima, wanted nothing more to do with the people of that place and right now… He just wanted to help his new father establish what would be known, as judgment.

He slashed with his hand, the energy generated by his body forming a small glow around his hand, the man's gun going off, a bullet passing by him, his body twisting to avoid it, his hand barely missing the man, whose face seemed to be distorted, the scream to his fellows to come being like a shot. "ONE'S HERE FELLAS! THERE'S A SECOND ONE HERE!"

Ranma's hand formed into a claw, as he began to use a different art, thrusting it at the man and feeling how the ribs spread before his hand, watching the man's eyes go wide, the gun falling from the gangster's hands, as blood sprayed from the man's chest wound. "You die." Was all Ranma said., as he clenched his hands, ethereal strands of ki reaching out and seizing hold of the man's internal organs and ripped them out of place, blood vessels rupturing and tearing, organs torn apart by the force, the man's eyes losing their life, as Ranma looked at him, before a bullet shot past him, ruffling his hair. "It's a kid! Kill him, he killed Banji!"

He flipped back, his eyes looking at the gangsters, one of them waving around an Uzi, aiming, before firing it and a hail of bullets coming at him. He cursed a little and then looked around, spotting a drape hanging to the wall, using his Ki to increase his speed to higher levels, the bullets hitting the wall, plaster falling down, as the spray of bullets followed him. _Iron Cloth technique!_

He wrapped the drape around him and then felt the bullets hit, the cloth infused with his Ki, deflecting and absorbing the bullets, which felt like someone was trying to tickle him, his body infused to every pore with his ki, to lessen the bullet's impact upon his body. "He's filled with lead boys! Let's shoot some more to be sure!" The sound of handguns being emptied into the drape filled his ears, as he began to count the bullets, the sound stopping and someone reaching for the drape, Ranma letting go of it. "Oh shi-"

His legs moved, smashing into one man's jaw, whilst another received a foot to the stomach, pushing him back, Ranma moving back on his feet and looking at the gangsters, who stared dumbly at him. "Impossible! He's still alive." Ranma nodded. "Alive and about to kick some ass, scum." Ki wreathed over his hands, as he let it fill every cell of his hands, giving the appearance of blue fire rising up his hands, a cry of pain being heard as his fingers dug deep into the flesh of one of the men, Ranma's Ki flaring, flesh blistering with the application of his rage. "FUCK!"

He ripped his hands down, gouging open the chest of the man, looking him into the eyes, even as he whirled around, kicking the one he'd kicked away in the chest with as much force as he could muster, the man's chest caving in as his body was launched through the wall, Ranm's eyes uncompromising, as a grin settled on his face, the Uzi carrier looking at him with fear, a stain on his pants having announced his body's fear. "Now it's time for some… punishment."

He took a solid stance, looking at the man before moving his hands in a defensive position, gathering his Ki within his body, before calling upon the calmness that was required for the Hiryu Shoten Ha, his body cooling down, a paleness rushing through his skin, as his eyes focused, taking a step backwards and then moving his hands back too. He placed his wrists together and then thrust at the man, his Ki rushing through the room, as a blast of concussive force roared out, the Uzi-Thug screaming, before his face was reduced to raw meat as his bones splintered and drove themselves through his head, killing him.

Ranma exhaled, sweat glistening on his body. It took a toll on him to perform that move, but it was something he'd been trying out for some time, in an imitation of the Hiryu Shoten Ha, albeit more compact. More usage would likely hone the technique, making it easier for him to use, but for now, this was good enough.

* * *

"How do you think Spider-man slings around on those webs of his?" Jenny asked Officer Henders, who shrugged. "Not my place to think about, I just watch out for the crooks he catches." She giggled a little, having called the suspects in as the hero known as Spider-Man slung away on his webs, commenting on how quick the arm of the law caught up to them. "But do you think he's cute?" The man shook his head, turning the wheel of their patrol car to go into another lane. "I don't care, even if he looked like some mutated spider underneath that hood. I just want to make sure that the citizens are safe. Now keep quiet and stay alert, you never know what happens right here in New York." She obeyed dutifully, looking at the streetlights, waiting for them to turn green so they'd be allowed to continue on their way.

"Think the Punisher will be out there?" She asked suddenly, the topic coming to her mind as she'd heard about the lack of sightings by the PD, her eyes suddenly growing alert. "If he wasn't too mussed up, we'd hear it over the radio." Officer Henders said, grinning. "He keeps the streets safe too, a pity there's not more of him." The radio flared to life, calling for all available units in the area to go to a place where a civil unrest had broken out. "Seems like there's a bit of trouble. Jenny, make sure you've got your gear ready, no more foul-ups like dropping that baton like the last time. You were lucky that that guy rescued you at the last moment or else I'd be without a trainee partner." She nodded, inspecting her gun, clicking the safety on. She fastened her baton tighter, the additions she'd made to it, the small tazer being one of them, not being overly legal, but if it'd protect her a little bit better, there was no harm in it, right?

They turned into the street where the civil disturbance was, watching as several more police cars came into the same street from the opposite direction. To say that it was a civil unrest, would be understating things. Bodies were laying in front of a building which was unofficially known as a Scuzzi family holding, discarded shells from a shotgun scattered in front of it, along with the damage equivalent to a shotgun done to some of the bodies. "Holy shit." Jenny muttered, as she looked at the carnage and for a moment, she had a flashback to her essay about vigilante's, how the bodies had looked after a Punisher hit. "This has got to be the Punisher, mister Henders! It's got to be, I did an essay on Vigilantes before I graduated and-" he held up a hand. "Quiet Jenny, get ready with your gun. Only shoot if they point a gun at you, and for the love of god, keep quiet!"

One of the windows on the second floor exploded outwards, a mangled body flying through the air with force, landing on the ground with a wet splat, a dark chuckle sounding through the air as a face, looking much like Death itself, stared out at the police cars approaching, Jenny almost freezing up in fear as Officer Henders put the car to the side, getting out. The face was gone all of a sudden and a thumping sound was heard, along with a scream of pain, another body flying out of the window, legs milling in the air like a toy with its strings cut, the body hitting the ground and moaning loudly, clearly still alive. "We got a live one!" Officer Henders shouted, about to go over to the man, until something flew out of the window, a big sofa, almost shattered as the window had been too small to fit it through, landing on the body. The moaning stopped at that moment, as the sound of splintering wood and meat being tenderized was being heard, clearly the man who'd survived being thrown out of a window being killed by the sofa.

"Oh my god…" She muttered, as she swayed a little, a queasy feeling rising up from the pit of her stomach, bile forcing its way up, out of her mouth and she lost what dinner she'd eaten before. As she finished retching, she looked at Officer Henders, who looked pale but was not too shaken up. "You'll get used to it kid. It's just how they do stuff." He drew his gun, aiming towards the door, preparing himself mentally for what just may exit. The Punisher was known to surrender occasionally, but right now, it did not look like it. "Follow me!" He hissed at Jenny, moving towards the door, her head rising and a confused look coming to her face. "We're going in?" He nodded. "The best way to get arrests is to just go in and take them by surprise. Come, we don't have much time."

They entered the building, seeing within the entrance a veritable bloodbath, bodies ripped apart by bullets, blood forming a coating over the ground, Jenny feeling queasy at the sight, their footsteps making small splashes within the pools of blood, Officer Henders checking the entrance for signs of survivors, sweat beading on his brow. "This is the Punisher alright." He muttered, looking at one of the bodies who had half of the jaw blown off, by a shotgun blast or something else. He did not really feel that comfortable right now, with the Punisher on the loose, no doubt blasting off faces of the mobsters that he'd picked for the evening. The sound of a gun being unloaded and inarticulate screaming reached his ears, as he looked at his temporary partner. "Watch it Jenny, just stay safe, okay?" The ceiling exploded at that moment, bodies falling to the ground next to him and he ducked for cover, watching as the dust fell down, hearing Jenny cough. "Are you okay?"

"Yes Mister Henders! I wasn't hit or anything." She gathered herself, getting up slowly, her gun in her hand, aimed at the bodies that'd fallen through the floor, the sound of something above them drawing her attention, even as shots rang out. For a moment, she stared at a face that was set in a resolute manner, the look of uncompromising ideals making her freeze. "Police kid, these two have been responsible for most of the drug running in this little block. Tell your boss to look into the expenses of Terentio Scuzzi." With that, the man known as Frank Castle, turned his back on her and walked out of view, the bodies laying there, dead, the gunshots having ended their lives. More police cars seemed to arrive and she rubbed her eyes, unsure whether she'd heard him right, only snapping out of her daze as Officer Henders touched her shoulder. "Your first meeting with him, right?"

"Yeah." She muttered, looking at the spot where the man had been, shaking her head lightly to clear her daze. "I suppose I better inform the boss that he's going to have to look into Mr Scuzzi's finances then." Officer Henders put a steadying hand on her shoulder, looking at her with an expression that looked unreadable. "That's good, that's good. You'll make a fine cop one day, Jenny." The man groaned lightly, as he touched his side, looking at the ceiling. "I've hit the ground hard, think you could lend a hand here?"

Together they walked out of the building, as the policemen cordoned off the area, several of the key personnel of the local police station being there, as well as their boss. "The Punisher says to look into Terentio Scuzzi's finances, sir." The man looked at her for a moment, before nodding. "That'll be done soon enough, junior officer Overbeck. Officer Henders, do you have a moment?" The man nodded, the police chief walking away with the other man, whilst Jenny seemed to be left to her own devices, looking up at the sky to see that clouds were beginning to pack together. _A coming storm, eh? Guess the Punisher's done for tonight, perhaps I should get myself something nice and warm for breakfast tomorrow, maybe a bagel or some hot soup._

_

* * *

Punisher War Journal, Continued from last entry._

_We hit the Scuzzi Outfit hard. Half of the scum was unprepared and fell during the first shotgun bursts, before they started to fight back. Probably killed em all, the kid said that there was no other person in the house that had anything to do with them and I believe him. Whatever training he's done, he knows where people are. ESP or finely honed martial arts, whatever he does it helps the cause. The War is long and sometimes, you need everything you have at your disposal._

_First, we need to rest up. The kid is going to school again and it better not get late. Education's important. Sarge taught me that much. First, clean the guns, then make sure that the kid's tucked in well enough._

* * *

Ranma laid in his bed, the events of tonight fresh in his mind. A shower had gotten rid of most of the blood and a good scrubbing took care of the little bits of flesh still on his body, his style of execution being messier than guns but he preferred it like this. Guns were only there to hurt others, whilst the Art was the true perfection one could obtain.

He heard how his new father cleaned the guns, his senses accurately tuning themselves to detect even the minutest amount of the man's Ki, a skill he was intent on developing further. Even though it had only occurred to him recently, he knew that with a lot more practice, it could very well be developed into something that would serve him well in a fight, to make sure that he could see where people were located.

His Ki felt strange now, as he focused on it, his eyes closed and just slipping into a meditative stance naturally, the normally raging confidence replaced by something else, something that was colder, a lot more powerful. He could feel it creeping through his body like a thousand ants, how it seemed to twist and burn through every cell.

His hate flared at that moment and he could feel it searing, writhing through his body, even as he forced himself to calm, his Ki beginning to become tranquil once more, his body calming down even as sleep suddenly came over him.

_

* * *

War Journal, 9__th__ of June 19XX_

_The kid is asleep now. Gonna have to thank him for his performance today. We ridded the world of thirty more scumbags and will make plans to hit the other outfit of the Scuzzi's soon. But first, the kid deserves some time in school, I think I owe it to Her._

_She'd be so proud of Ranma, I just know she would be. If she could see how he applies himself. Maria, I know you'd be a great mother to the kid._

He closed the log, looking at the clock and noticing the time. He went to bed after taking a protein shake, his body feeling the effects of today's exercise creeping up on him, even as he tried to focus his thoughts, sleep claiming him after an hour.

*/*

Okaayyy, This is a new chapter, I hope it's a bit more violent than the last chapter. I've kind of thought about how I want to portray Ranma, and well, shed a bit of light on his character. His Ki currently is undergoing a change which will be elaborated upon a few chapters down the road, maybe ten or so, but it'll be a recurring thing.

I just hope that people enjoy reading it, but I'd also like to see more reviews, as your opinion matters to me, plus it's a good reason why I should write more, just to see the comments you give me.


End file.
